


Untitled Failfic of Boring (AssassinWardo)

by abriata



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Assassins & Hitmen, Bad Fic, M/M, Magic, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriata/pseuds/abriata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein. Oh god.</p>
<p>Wherein Eduardo is supposedly an assassin and Chris is supposedly something to do with a bar/restaurant/tavern and Dustin can disappear at will (but Eduardo does it ~better) and Mark is Nobody Has A Clue but that's nothing new.</p>
<p>Also wherein too many tropes to list are abused, too little effort was exerted in both writing and editing, and all respect for the author will be (and ought to be) lost. Good plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Failfic of Boring (AssassinWardo)

**Author's Note:**

> And so I give you: the second fic I ever wrote for TSN, but the first one I completed (IWaK was long, okay?). Written for last year's TSN Big Bang, then dropped because it's horrible and I'm not editing this thing with a thirty foot pole. It even fails at being crack.
> 
> (I'm relatively sure it's not even coherent. I am very ironically attached to it anyway.)

His boots squelch wetly over the rough stone of the roof, and the rain is already starting. It's good; it will wash all of this clean. He walks to the edge, looking out over the city and breathing in deeply, smiling. It is beautiful with the sun setting. He'll have to go out tonight.

As he's turning to scale back down the side of the monastery, Eduardo pauses. There is a body in the corner, which is only worth noting because he did not put it there.

He swings his leg back over, staring for a couple more seconds to be sure, but no, there is no movement. Of course there isn't - he'd have noticed someone spying on him, at least. The only reason he hadn't seen this person was because of their immutable stillness, quiet like the dead.

He wants to just leave, head to the bar and meet up with Chris, but he needs to know for sure. Not checking would be unprofessional.

Unfortunately, there's a pulse.

\---

"He's heavy," Chris says, huffing. He leans against the wall next to the bed. Eduardo had been forced to ask for his help getting the guy off the roof - he was too heavy to carry down with just one person, but Eduardo couldn't be seen coming out of the building, and he couldn't leave him there.

Eduardo says, "Thank you," while he digs through his bags under the bed and drags out a coil of soft rope.

Chris watches passively while Eduardo arranges all the slack limbs on the bed, wrapping the rope around the wrists several times and knotting it before looping it around the top of his bed and drawing the rest of the coil through to secure his other arm.

"You're just going to leave him here?" Chris asks when he's done.

"I'm going to wait until he wakes up," Eduardo says, and props himself on the ledge in front of the window

"I could do it, if you'd like," Chris says. "You must be tired."

Eduardo shrugs and smiles slightly. He can see Chris' eyes track to the cut on his shoulder, though it's stopped bleeding and Chris has already bandaged it for him. "I'll stay," Eduardo says. "I'm curious about him."

"Why didn't you leave him there?" Chris asks. There's a slight inflection in his voice Eduardo can't decipher.

"I was curious," Eduardo repeats. "Look at him. What was he doing at a monastery? How did he end up unconscious on the roof?" Eduardo knows, whoever he is, that he's not who he appears to be, so it's probably someone who shifts - but he's never met someone who can hold it when passed out. It's supposed to be impossible.

"He is odd," Chris says. He's frowning. "But don't you think keeping him is dangerous?"

"Probably," Eduardo says, getting water from the bathroom. Chris doesn't look appeased. "I'll be careful," he adds. "You don't need to worry."

"Huh," he says, blinking at the too-familiar face when he's washed most of the blood and grime off. "There shouldn't be this much blood."

Chris is quiet.

"You don't think so?" Eduardo asks, craning to look at him.

Chris shrugs uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Never mind," Eduardo says.

Chris nods, and then leaves the room slowly. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Ever cautious, Eduardo locks the door behind Chris.

\---

Eduardo wakes to the sounds of scuffling and creaking. He stays still, getting his bearings. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but Chris had been right - he was tired, and he'd leaned his head against the window and dropped off.

The sounds don't change, and he slits one eye open, barely enough to see the boy's back as he works on his hands. Eduardo lifts his head to get a better look, unafraid of being noticed.

The boy doesn't seem to be worried about his injuries, from what Eduardo can see, and while he's dirty from the roof and the rain his clothing is nice enough. He's yanking at his wrists, rubbing them together, twisting his arms as he struggles to get free.

He loses his balance after tugging too hard, pulling himself off balance and twisting into the wall with a thump. He freezes, obviously listening to see if he woke Eduardo, and then cautiously turns his head to check. Eduardo lets his head drop back again, eyes closed, and when he doesn't make a sound the boy resumes his struggles. He's changed positions and now Eduardo can see flashes of his wrists, rubbed raw and bleeding in some places. It's well into the morning, and he must have been working on this for hours. Eduardo winces at the thought, though he admires the perseverance. That rope hurts more to attempt escape from than a regular braid.

"You won't get free," Eduardo says quietly.

He stills. "I know." Twisting just his head, he stares at Eduardo over his shoulder. He's not as young as Eduardo guessed - maybe younger than Eduardo himself, but not by much. "It's enchanted," he says.

"You recognize the type of rope?" Eduardo asks, surprised. Most people don't - it's too expensive to be anything but very rare.

"I can tell."

"I'm Eduardo," Eduardo says, padding over to rest on the bed in front of him. "Who are you?"

"I know who you are," Eduardo is told.

"You're ahead of me, then," Eduardo says. "Who are you?" He reaches out, grabbing the bleeding wrists and stilling them. Whoever he is, he doesn't seem to have a high opinion of Eduardo, if he thinks Eduardo wouldn't notice he was still twisting his wrists against each other to try to loosen the ties.

He doesn't answer, even when Eduardo's fingers slip on bruised skin and dig into the bleeding scrapes left by his tugging. He doesn't even flinch.

Eduardo switches tactics. "Please tell me. I won't hurt you. I only tied you up because I know nothing about you. I can release you if you set my mind at ease."

"Mark. I'm Mark. And you're not going to release me."

"I won't?" Eduardo asks, bemused by his certainty. "And it's nice to meet you, Mark." He doesn't comment on the name, but there’s no way, with the physical similarities, that giving the same name as the king is also a coincidence.

Mark gives him a sardonic look. "No, you won't," he says.

"Why not?" Eduardo asks curiously. He slips a finger under one of the knots, preparing to loosen it.

"Because I can't set your mind at ease," Mark says. "Because you're not stupid. You found me on the roof of the monastery you were contracted to slaughter. You're too suspicious to chalk that up to coincidence. You're curious about me. And you know I know a lot about you, and that makes me dangerous."

"And you recognize sorcery," Eduardo says quietly. "Can't forget that. You know it well enough to try to use the magic against itself." Mark doesn't answer, and Eduardo smiles thoughtfully, looking down at Mark's wrists again. "It's clever. Use the spell on the rope to scrape your wrists until they bleed. I guess then you were hoping to use the blood to loosen the slide and slip your hands free?"

"Something like that," Mark says. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I don't know," Eduardo says. "I guess that depends on what else you tell me. I am curious about you."

Mark turns his head, staring at the window.

"If you know so much about me, you must be able to tell I won't give up," Eduardo says, and releases one of Mark's wrists.

"But you'll untie me?" Mark asks. He looks suspicious.

Eduardo laughs. "The door is locked, and I have knives and you don't. Besides, you're still injured."

"I'm fine," Mark says. Eduardo has to admit, his injuries look to be much less severe this morning than they did on the roof. He was still very obviously attacked, but it doesn't seem to have been deadly.

Mark won't say anything else, no matter how Eduardo phrases the questions, and since Eduardo finds himself oddly reluctant to resort to any sort of force - Mark is not a threat, and there is plenty of time besides - they spend most of the morning in silence.

Eduardo eventually reties the second wrist, after giving Mark a stern warning to let up on the self-mutilation that Eduardo fully expects to go ignored, and fetches food from the bar below. Chris is absent, thankfully, and Eduardo takes the tray offered by one of the girls and brings it back up to Mark.

He gives Mark both his hands to eat, and then sets the lunch dishes outside the door. The sun is shining brightly through his window as it works its way into the afternoon, and Mark is left squinting into it every time he looks over at Eduardo.

"Come on," Eduardo says finally. "We should see how badly hurt you are."

Mark tenses, but he doesn't struggle as Eduardo nudges him into the adjoined bathroom.

"You have a very nice set of rooms," he says, as he takes in the tub and sink and the storage room off the far wall.

"I'm well-paid," Eduardo says. "Would you take off your shirt?"

"I'm fine," he says, so Eduardo removes it for him.

"Since I have no other clothes, I hope you're prepared to lend me some of yours," Mark says, seemingly unimpressed as Eduardo sheathes his dagger again while the tatters of the shirt peel off Mark's back.

"You can remove your own pants," Eduardo says. He starts the water in the bath.

Mark, as Eduardo expected, does. When Eduardo pushes him towards the bath he looks distrusting and balks.

"I'm not going to drown you," Eduardo says, exasperated.

"But you'll stare at me while I wash?" Mark retorts, scowling.

"I need to make sure you won't try to drown yourself," Eduardo explains. "And I meant it about checking out your injuries. You won't be able to reach the cuts on your back."

The worst of the injuries are in the middle of his back, crisscrossing his spine. It looks as if he was attacked while curled in on himself, and beaten and hacked at until left for dead. The resulting wounds are numerous and painful-looking.

Eduardo despises amateurs.

"I'm amazed you can still move," he mutters quietly when Mark lifts his leg to climb into the tub and nearly falls at the stress it puts on him.

"I have experience," Mark says, bitingly, and then seems to remember his decision to remain secretive.

Eduardo grabs a wash rag and the gentle soap. Mark makes no move to help him, but when Eduardo starts wiping down his back and cleaning out the gashes Mark doesn't bite back the occasional noise.

It isn't until one that was nearly a stab wound, right to the left of his spine, that Mark actually cries out. Eduardo shushes him and tries to do it as quickly as possible, forcing back the urge to apologize and soothe.

"I'm a thief," Mark says, suddenly and unexpected, when Eduardo turns around to drop his shirt in the corner after passing the rag and soap to Mark to finish the rest of himself. His sleeves were getting wet.

"You tried to steal from the monastery," Eduardo says. "That does explain quite a lot." The monks were heavily trained - that many valuables and that much free time, they did little else. "You're lucky you're alive. I suppose I'm forced to reevaluate your intelligence, though. No thief with any experience tries to rob the temples. No one is ever successful."

"I was," Mark says..

"You had nothing on you when I found you," Eduardo says. "Whatever you stole, they got it back."

Mark smirks, which is both intriguing and infuriating. He refuses to respond to Eduardo's prodding for more information.

He stands up after a few minutes, unashamed with Eduardo still staring at him. He's got bruises all over him, but most of the cuts are bleeding cleanly and slow.

Mark gets dressed again, and Eduardo hands him a new shirt and directs him to sit on the bed while he sorts out bandages. As he hears Mark's footsteps pace across the floor and then slow in the middle of the room, Eduardo smiles. He's probably considering his options, trying to decide his chances of escape out of a locked door with Eduardo only ten feet away, if out of sight.

"That door is spelled, too," Eduardo calls, to save them both the trouble of Mark's attempted escape. "It won't open for you."

Mark doesn't answer, but the bed sighs as he sets himself back onto it.

"Let me get your back first," Eduardo says.

"You don't need to," Mark says. Eduardo ignores him and pushes at his shoulder until, hissing, Mark has to turn.

But the cuts _don't_ need bandaging. Eduardo prods at the edge of the worst one, where he'd dabbed away dried blood. The skin around it is puckered and tight, like it's had days healing.

"How--" Eduardo says, and pokes at a smaller one. It has new white skin showing at the shallow end.

"I told you," Mark says, irritated. "I'm fine."

"How?" Eduardo repeats.

"The same way you avoid getting caught," Mark says, and twists back around. He snatches the shirt off the bed.

"You heal," Eduardo says. Mark doesn't dignify him with a response. "Just yourself, or can you do other people, too?"

Mark shrugs.

"So last night, they didn't leave you alive."

"They didn't mean to," Mark corrects. "They would've come back up to dispose of my body, realized leaving me to bleed to death hadn't worked, and done it correctly."

"Lucky for you I came along, then," Eduardo says drily.

"Yeah, lucky," Mark says, looking contemplative.

"You look familiar," Eduardo says, finally giving in to his curiosity. "Do you shift, too?"

"No," Mark says, and shrugs. "I just happen to look like the king."

"Lucky," Eduardo says. Mark doesn't answer. "Would you like a book?"

"No, thank you," Mark says. He doesn't even glance at the shelves.

"I'm going to sleep now," Eduardo tells him, "and I'm tying you back up before I do. I thought you'd appreciate something to do."

"You said the door won't open."

"But I'm not going to risk you getting a hold of a weapon. I don't know who you are and you know way too much about me. Pick a book."

Mark looks put out and picks a stack from the corner to drop, loudly, onto the bedside table.

"You're not going to be able to bludgeon me to death, either," Eduardo says, eyeing them, and then he reties Mark's wrists.

"Damn," Mark says.

\---

There's knocking at the door that makes Eduardo jump awake. Eduardo clears his throat and says, "Yes?"

"Mr. Saverin?" It's one of the girls who works downstairs.

"What is it?" Eduardo asks, frowning. He pushes himself to his feet.

"I don't mean to bother you," she says, sounding apologetic, "but you've got a visitor down in the bar."

"Tell them to leave me a message," Eduardo says. 'A visitor' means she doesn't know the person, and all of Chris' employees recognize Eduardo's personal acquaintances. All that leaves is business, and while Eduardo has a reputation, he's not for hire.

"I've been trying to tell him that, but he's been here for hours. Chris has been talking to him and he told me to come get you."

"Chris wants me to come down?" Eduardo asks, surprised.

"This is one of the most inefficient conversations I've ever heard," Mark mutters. Eduardo ignores him.

"Yeah," she answers helpfully, oblivious to Mark. "He said to hurry, that it's an emergency."

"She's not very useful, is she?" Mark says. "Probably should've said that first."

"I'm coming," Eduardo says.

Her feet clatter on the stairs. Eduardo whirls to look at Mark. "Fuck," he says.

"You can leave me here, but I'll struggle and scream for help. Or you can let me come downstairs with you." Mark doesn't look particularly opportunistic, but he's obviously too intelligent to leave alone.

Eduardo swears again. "And what, do you promise not to run away?" he says, but he grabs Mark by the elbow and tugs the rope loose sloppily. The scrapes on his wrists are almost completely gone. "Just stay in front of me."

"They're in the office," Laurie yells over the din of the bar when they hit the ground floor.

Eduardo nudges Mark through the door and sees Chris. He says, "You look awfully calm for an emergency," peevish. He was expecting to find Chris under attack, not lounging in his pajamas at his desk.

Before Chris can answer, Mark says, "Dustin?" and steps forward, yanking his arm from Eduardo's grasp.

"Come on, Mark," Dustin says, appearing from nowhere, "let's go," and Eduardo lunges for Mark too late. Dustin grabs Mark's hand and they both disappear.

Fuck. "You're not getting out," Eduardo says lowly. "Lock the door, Chris."

Chris gets up and moves around behind him, and he hears the lock slide into place. He breathes in slowly and closes his eyes. For a moment there's no sound loud enough to be heard over the noise from the bar but that's okay -- they can wait.

Then someone says loudly, "Ow!" from near Eduardo's elbow.

He reaches out, bringing his dagger around in a wide arc, and Dustin stumbles into visibility, eyes wide.The shallow cut on Mark's arm starts to bleed, a soft spreading stain on Eduardo's shirt. "Dammit, Mark!" Dustin yelps, when Eduardo dives for him.

He's brought up by a hand around his throat.

"Stop," Chris says quietly. "Let them go." The knife is almost too light to feel.

Eduardo swallows hard and stays still. Mark retreats to Dustin again, but this time Dustin doesn't hide them.

"I'm sorry," Chris says. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't?" Eduardo asks, carefully.

"Will you promise to listen if I let you go?" Chris asks.

"Yes," Eduardo says.

"Are you lying?" Chris asks, quietly. He sounds upset - he's never liked violence, has always disapproved of what Eduardo does.

"I'll listen," Eduardo says.

"And then you'll kill us afterwards," Dustin says, voice high. "Make him promise not to kill us, instead."

Chris takes a deep breath, and then the knife drops. Eduardo twists away quickly, spinning and glaring at Chris with the wall at his back.

"We're not bad guys." Chris says. "Eduardo, you know I'm not. You trust me."

"Not anymore," Eduardo says flatly.

"I'm sorry," Chris repeats. "I didn't want to tell you this way."

"Tell me what?" Eduardo asks. He's known Chris for half a decade, and he hadn't even known Chris carried a knife.

"Who Mark is and what we're doing," Chris says.

"You're actually going to?" Dustin says, still sounding slightly hysterical. He's clutching at Mark's shirt like a child, cowering. Eduardo glares at him for good measure.

"We have to," Chris says, sounding frustrated. Dustin opens his mouth again. "Look, I've known him for a long time."

"Just tell him," Mark says, impatient. He flops down to sit in a chair in front of Chris' desk. Dustin makes a betrayed sound.

"So he can tell the king and _then_ kill us?" Dustin says. "Great idea!"

"I already said I wouldn't," Eduardo says, rankled.

"Says the _assassin_ ," Dustin retorts. "Forgive me if I don't believe you, what with how you _kill_ people!"

"Only ones who deserve it," Eduardo says. "You thieve indiscriminately."

"He has you there," Mark points out helpfully. Dustin kicks him.

"Okay," Chris says, on a sigh. "You're listening, but this might also require some suspension of disbelief."

"Just tell me," Eduardo says.

"Maybe we should all sit down," Chris says.

"Chris," Eduardo says sharply. He feels himself flicker, stress and wariness making him go tense.

"I'm the real king," Mark says, "and we're trying to get rid of the impostor without the entire kingdom figuring out what's going on."

"Right," Eduardo says, and goes for his knife as he hides.

"Seriously!" Chris yelps, grabbing for Eduardo. He misses.

"We can prove it," Mark offers, still calm.

Eduardo pauses. Dustin is still craning his head around, trying to catch where Eduardo is by hearing alone.

Chris licks his lips and says, "He's right. At the monastery, he was stealing the old copies of the keys to the palace entrance way underground. Even with the keys he couldn't get in if he wasn't royal - go with him."

"Also, we might need your help killing people to get me in, since they don't know I'm the king," Mark adds helpfully.

Eduardo snorts disbelievingly before he can stop himself, and they all stare in the direction of the noise. He stops hiding. "This is ridiculous."

"Do you think we're lying?" Mark asks. His head tilts; he sounds genuinely curious.

Eduardo looks at them - at Dustin, who he dislikes on principle, who has never told Eduardo the truth and has no reason to; at Mark, who Eduardo doesn't know; at Chris, who has never lied to Eduardo before and has more common sense than anyone he's ever met. "I think you all believe it," he says finally.

"Help us," Mark says. "Help us, and if we're wrong you can kill us then."

"I'm not going to kill you!" Eduardo says.

"Then you might as well help us," Chris says.

\---

Chris closes the bar early and sends the employees home. They sit at a table, cradling drinks none of them want.

"Let's say I believe you," Eduardo says. "Explain how, exactly, you can be the real king but exiled when the king has never gone missing or been replaced."

"I heal," Mark says. "Nobody knew that until someone tried to kill me."

"That's not the beginning," Dustin says.

"Do you want to tell him?" Mark retorts.

"When Mark's mother died, before he was crowned, someone tried to kill him. Possibly someone _did_ , but nobody knew Mark could heal. Whatever they did to him, it didn't stick," Chris says, ignoring Mark and Dustin both.

"When I woke up I was in the sewers," Mark takes over, giving Chris a dirty look. "I don't remember what happened, but when I climbed up to the streets it was the day after the ceremony."

"You were unconscious for a week?" Eduardo asks skeptically.

"It takes time to recover from major injuries," Mark says, defensive. "But - whoever killed me, they got a shifter to take my place. Now anyone who meets me just thinks I look uncommonly like the new king. I've been trying to get back into the palace ever since."

"So how did Chris and Dustin get involved?"

"I picked Mark up when he was wandering around cluelessly." Dustin ignores the way Mark starts glaring at him again. "Been stuck with him ever since, and Chris and I have been friends since we were kids."

"I'm aware of your association with Chris, thank you," Eduardo says, through his teeth. Dustin makes a face at him. Chris, as always, looks resigned.

"He was trying to steal from the palace through the sewers at the same time I was trying to get back in," Mark corrects. "He couldn't get the gate open, but when he saw I could he figured out who I was."

"What do you think you're going to do when you get back into the palace?" Eduardo asks.

"I'm going to replace the existing fake king," Mark says, as if it's obvious.

"Alright," Eduardo says, but he can't bite his tongue. "Even if you do turn out to be the real king, people aren't really happy with the fake one." Eduardo sympathizes with them, too - the couple of times Eduardo has met him he's been nearly intolerable. It's widely wondered how such a wonderful Queen had produced such a terrible son.

"I know," Mark says grimly, and everyone stares down at their hands.

"Well, since you don't look like you want to kill us, I think Mark and I are going to go home now," Dustin says nervously, and grabs Mark's arm to haul him up. "We'll see you tomorrow. Chris can fill you in on our plans!"

Dustin has them hidden before they even close the door behind them, and that leaves Chris darting looks at Eduardo from underneath his eyelashes.

"My disbelief was already pretty suspended - after all, before tonight I wouldn't have thought you'd ever threaten to slit my throat."

"I wouldn't actually hurt you," Chris says, guiltily.

"I know," Eduardo says quietly. "Why didn't you tell me? You've apparently known Mark for years."

Chris spins his glass in his hands. "Don't - don't get upset with me, because I'm sorry, but for a long time I wasn't sure that you weren't the one that tried to kill him."

Numbly, Eduardo asks, "For a long time?"

Chris bites his lip. "Until last night, when you had no idea who Mark was."

"Wow," Eduardo says, for lack of anything better.

"I'm sorry," Chris repeats. He's saying that a lot tonight. "I just - you were the royal family's assassin, you were the most likely person."

"I work _for_ the royal family," Eduardo says. "Why would I kill the prince?" Even if he had, he wouldn't have screwed up badly enough to leave him alive. It's not a comforting argument, though, so he doesn't bother trying to explain that to Chris.

Chris winces. "I don't know! We thought it was possible someone had paid you off."

"No," Eduardo says flatly.

"Well, we know that now," Chris says. "Like I said--"

"You're sorry," Eduardo says, and sighs. "You're lucky I wasn't the one who killed him - if I hadn't found him on the roof someone else would have."

"We're pretty sure that's why the king had you destroy the monastery in the first place," Chris admits. "I think he knows Mark is alive, because Dustin and Mark weren't very subtle at first. And when the first set of keys went missing, before they realized they weren't just going to be able to stroll in through the front doors, he probably figured it out."

"Even if someone had managed to replace Mark with a shifter to play him," Eduardo says, "it couldn't have been the shifter alone."

"We don't know," Chris says, wincing when Eduardo narrows his eyes. "I mean, Mark apparently was not the most observant about what went in to keeping him safe, and Dustin and I don't know how security at the palace works."

And without Eduardo to help them figure that out - it's a miracle they've survived and gotten this far. "So Dustin mentioned your plans."

Chris says, "You know how Mark said he can open the doors, but they needed the keys from the monastery?"

"Yes," Eduardo says. He's been to the palace before, and he always has to go a back way. He knows how it works. "There's three types of doors. If they have the keys for the locked doors and the barriers will let Mark through because they recognize him, that doesn't help with the ones that need the codes from the palace administration or security. They change it every two weeks."

"That's what Dustin and Mark are getting tomorrow," Chris says. "Though they might need your help. I think they're just going to take Mark down into the sewers, have him open the first underground gate to prove to you who he is, and then come back here."

"You don't know how you're going to get to the king," Eduardo realizes abruptly. "You know how to get out into the palace but not past the guards."

"It's not--" Chris starts.

"And that's why you need me," Eduardo says, feeling sick. He knows most of the guards. "But I'm not going to help you."

"Even if Mark is the real king?" Chris asks quietly.

Eduardo doesn't have an answer.

\---

He has to go out and act like a normal person the next day. He always feels a little disconnected after he's finished a job, and he would've gone out yesterday if it weren't for the whole mess with the three underground conspirators. Instead, he wakes up at dawn and sneaks downstairs quietly - Chris is prone to early rising, and Eduardo doesn't want to have to see him this morning.

Grabbing breakfast at the café down the street, he wanders up and down the main roads until the crowds get busy. Then he mingles with all the anonymous faces until the last of the shops is open, Christy getting in late like always.

"Hello, there," he says as the door swishes shut behind him. She doesn't look up, just finishes scribbling in the inventory book and checking the under-the-counter displays. "How are you this morning?"

She finally looks up at him when he sets her breakfast in front of her. "That bad?" she asks sympathetically.

"Hm?" he says, sipping his coffee.

"You only get chocolate in the mornings if your last job was terrible," she says, picking at the muffin. "But everyone's heard about the monastery, it's in all the news, so you obviously managed it. So what went wrong?"

Eduardo blows across the drink and wonders how much he can tell her. He's not stupid enough to think getting her involved is a good idea - she's just a shop girl. He doesn't bother wondering how she knows the monastery was him, as opposed to one of the other murders or sundry crimes that must've happened the same night. Instead, he says, "Nothing unusual."

She starts laughing quietly, and it's only when Eduardo shakes his head at her that she stops, confused. "You expect me to believe you?"

"Yeah," he says. "It really is nothing." He can't tell her he's avoiding Chris without explaining why.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Okay. Then you can make yourself useful and help me reorganize the merchandise. I want women's clothing closer to the door."

Eduardo sighs. "I'm just free labor."

"I'm helping you make up your crimes against humanity," she says, and then sees his face and winces, reaching out for him. "Oh, you know I don't mean it like that."

Of course she doesn't. He saved her life; she knows what he does in the abstract, but to her he's still the person who caught the people who were murderers, not a murderer himself.

If her father's competitors hadn't been stupid she would've died. Instead of going to someone for hire, they went to the assassin on retainer - and Eduardo didn't like the idea of people murdering families for commerce.

Eduardo twists his mouth to the side. She frowns back at him.

"I just mean - you know I adore you."

"You never let me forget," Eduardo says.

Christy catches the sarcasm, making a sharp noise and shoving at his shoulder. "Then don't ruin it by being a baby. And let go of whatever brought you here." She gives him a face when he looks surprised. "I'm well aware that I function as your therapist."

"You are wise beyond your years," Eduardo tells her solemnly.

"I'm your age," she tells him. "And I have customers coming, so get to work."

He ends up staying all day. He has to dodge some of her attempts to put frilly clothes on him, which he takes as his due. He has to be careful not to alienate her, since she gives him most of his clothes for free and doesn't mind cutting out bloodstains.

\---

Mark's waiting for him at an alley off the road by Christy's shop late that afternoon. It puts them near the busiest part of the foot traffic, which is bad for privacy but good for anonymity. Mark keeps his head ducked, but Eduardo smiles at a few passerby so they don't get reported or kicked off the streets.

"So you heal," Eduardo says, breaking the silence. "Anything else?"

"No," Mark says. "You can't do anything but hide."

"No, I don't," Eduardo says mildly. Mark's treating the idea of only having one talent as an insult - Eduardo thinks it's a blessing, since he barely knows what to do with his most of the time.

"Why do you kill people?" Mark asks. He sounds curious, as if it were a question he found cause to ask all the time.

Eduardo shakes himself a little. "I was raised to it. My family has been in your family's employ for generations. I'm good at it. My talent suits me to it."

Mark hums. He doesn't seem impressed by the reasoning. "You could've been a thief, like Dustin," he says. "I doubt my mother would've kept you from quitting, if that was what you wanted."

"No," Eduardo says slowly. "But your mother also never had much use for me. I spied more than anything, and went after people who attacked you and her if the guards couldn't catch them. But the guards usually didn't let it get that far." Eduardo's father had always thought Mark's mother was too soft for a queen; Eduardo hadn't disagreed, but he hadn't considered it a weakness like others in her employ.

"Yeah," Mark says, looking away.

Eduardo desperately wants to ask what Mark remembers about that night, if he knows who the impostor is, what he's done in the two years since his mother died and he was replaced. He doesn't ask, though, because he's pretty sure Mark wouldn't answer.

Eduardo hears Dustin coming half an hour later.

"You're late," he informs him, and Dustin appears perilously close to sticking out his tongue.

"Stop it," Mark says, absently.

Dustin leads them to the palace entrance by the guard house. Eduardo groans through his teeth and Mark says, "Don't worry. Dustin is just going to pickpocket one of them for the code and then there's an entry to the sewers about a block from here. We'll be at the restaurant before dinner."

"No," Eduardo says, and tries to haul them away before they can get themselves arrested and killed. Dustin hides before Eduardo can get a grasp on him, and his shoes, which always fade out last because Dustin is sloppy, go skidding along the cobblestones toward the crowd of guards who have just been released from duty.

Eduardo holds his breath. He almost thinks Dustin has gotten through the crowd safely, until one of the guards on the fringe of the group stumbles back and curses, slapping around for his sword. Someone else lunges forward, and Dustin yelps as he abruptly becomes unhidden.

Swearing, Eduardo shoves Mark back around the corner and says, "Don't move!" He doesn't have time to make sure Mark listens - Dustin is well and truly caught, and being dragged back through the palace gates.

He edges around behind the guards that have Dustin, careful not to alert the guards there's someone else hiding. Tapping Dustin on the shoulder in warning, Eduardo reaches around one of the guards holding him and digs his knife into his throat.

"Let him go, slowly and quietly, or I'll kill you and your friend," Eduardo whispers. The guard's hand releases, slowly, and Eduardo touches Dustin's shoulder. Dustin, thankfully, holds still.

"Run away," Eduardo hisses. "Just turn around and go."

Then he spins away from the first guard and stabs the second on in the shoulder. He cries out just as the first guard yells for help. Dustin takes off and Eduardo follow, waiting for Dustin to grab Mark and then shoving them forward.

"Sewers, now!"

Dustin ducks the last corner and unhides, and Eduardo follows suit. Mark is breathing quickly, and Eduardo makes sure to keep a tight grip on his shirt.

"You _are_ insane," Eduardo says, pathetically. "Of course. I should have known better than this."

"What the hell happened?" Dustin snarls. "The day guards were about to go home for the night, and they always get the new codes every two weeks."

"You're not going to get the next code!" Eduardo snaps back.. "The guards are given the code on paper, but they're not allowed to leave the building until they've burned it! You just tried to pickpocket people who've been trained to be the best in the country to catch that sort of thing!"

"How do you know? Have you done the research on the codes?"

"No," Eduardo says, "but I do work as part of the security team."

There's a long, drawn out silence.

Then Mark says, "So when do you get yours for the next two weeks? We can use that."

"Mine doesn't change," Eduardo says. "Which, shouldn't you know all of this?"

"No," Mark says simply.

"The magic tracks what code was put in and by who," Eduardo says, sighing, "and security has always assumed that my family is not likely to give up the code through torture or bribery like a normal guard might. I have one unchanging code, and if someone besides me tries to use it the magic won't let the doors open."

"Okay," Mark says. "Let's get this over with."

Dustin follows, Eduardo can hear his footsteps, but he's silent the whole way.

The stairs to the sewers are behind a bar that's been closed up for years; it had been popular, but it was too close to the palace and the mass of rowdy drunks had made the guards nervous, so the Queen had paid the owner to relocate almost a decade ago. Eduardo would barely remember it, except it was where his father first taught him how to work in a crowd.

They climb down, and Eduardo has to touch the wall several times before the old magic responds to light up the tunnels.

"It's this way," Mark says, and takes off. Eduardo follows, reluctant, and stops hiding them both. This section of the sewers have fallen out of use, so they're faintly damp and empty. There's old debris littering the ground from squatters living down here in winters and remnants of magic materials that old thieves used to attempt to force the gates open.

"Ugh," Dustin says feelingly from somewhere behind them, and there's a squelch that means he misstepped. Eduardo smirks.

"Here," Mark calls, from up ahead, and Eduardo hurries to catch back up. He can't believe he let Mark out of his sight.

The gates are so old and rusted they could probably be pushed over by one person, if the magic holding them up wasn't so powerful to hold under anything up to an earthquake. Instead they're sad, elaborately twisted iron given way to neglect and filth.

"You should touch them first," Mark says. "So you know they really are locked and I'm not cheating."

Eduardo knows they aren't open, can see it just by looking at them, but he appreciates Mark's insistence. He almost considers how this will go, if Mark really is delusional and the gates don't open for him; then he considers how this will go if the gates _do_ open for him, and can't decide which seems worst. The gates don't budge when he brushes his fingers over the sealing sign in the center, and he pushes again, harder, until Mark seems satisfied he's actually tried.

"Oh, me next," Dustin says bitingly from behind them.

"I know you can't open it," Eduardo says.

"And Mark can," Dustin says, "so he's the king, yay, can we go now?"

Eduardo wants to say rude things to Dustin, but Dustin grabs Mark's wrist and shoves him at the gates.

The gates which spring open, without a sound, almost before Mark's fingers can make contact.

"Oh," Eduardo says quietly, stunned, and tells himself firmly that there's nowhere to sit down.

Mark looks over at him, actually concerned, and hisses for Dustin to shut up when he starts to speak.

"You, uh," Eduardo says, and considers sitting down anyway. This isn't possible. No matter what Mark and Chris said, the king couldn't just get replaced for two years. There were measures against that sort of thing.

"Are you okay?" Dustin says, sounding hesitant. "I just mean, I don't think we can carry you if you pass out."

"Right," Eduardo says, and looks over at Mark, still watching him carefully. "I owe you an apology, your majesty," Eduardo says stiffly. "For doubting you."

Dustin scoffs, but Mark - weirdly, Mark smiles, a funny, self-deprecating face, and says, "You don't have to apologize for anything."

Eduardo closes his mouth and then opens it again. "But," he says, helplessly, "I tied you to my bed." He doesn't realize how it sounds until Dustin makes a loud, disbelieving noise. Mark looks embarrassed, and Eduardo can feel himself flushing up his neck. "I mean--"

"No," Mark says hurriedly. "You were right. And we didn't give you a lot of warning. You did fine."

"Ugh," Dustin says. "While this is hilarious, I'm hungry, can we leave before the smell ruins dinner? Eduardo can have time to consider how to properly debase himself for his impertinence or whatever." Dustin snorts again. "I'm telling Chris about the bed thing."

"Chris knows," Mark says, and takes back off towards the stairs. Eduardo doesn't blame him for taking the escape.

\---

"So I assume this isn't going over well," Chris says to Eduardo quietly, when he sets a sandwich down in front of him. Dustin is in a corner, getting thoroughly drunk with one of the waitresses, who should be working and is only getting off by virtue of Chris' preoccupation with Eduardo.

Eduardo had tried to apologize to Chris as soon as they'd gotten back, but almost nothing had come out. Dustin had looked disgusted, but Chris had shoved he and Mark away while Eduardo found a chair and avoided everyone's eyes.

"What do I do?" Eduardo says imploringly, and pushes the plate away so he can drop his head onto his arm. "I mean - not only did I fail to protect the future king after his mother's death, but I kept him locked up! I thought he was insane!"

"You didn't know he was the real king," Chris says quietly, sternly. "And it's not your job to protect the royal family - that is the guards' job, and they failed, not you. You had no way of knowing."

"Fuck," Eduardo says.

"Hey," Chris says, and spreads his hand cautiously over Eduardo's back. "Really."

Eduardo takes a deep breath and forces himself to sit up and face Chris. "I owe you an apology, too."

"It's okay," Chris interrupts, before Eduardo can finish the sentence. "You thought I was caught up in something bad. It's not as if you held a knife to my throat." His mouth quirks.

"I forgive you," Eduardo says. "I don't blame you at all."

"Then call it even?" Chris asks, looking guilty. "I lied to you for years, so it's not as if you were overreacting."

Dustin knocks over a table and Chris has to go yell at him. Eduardo breathes out.

Mark is at a corner table, head in a book he'd nicked from behind the counter. It's a cheap romance, probably belonging to one of the waitresses, and Eduardo can see as he gets closer that Mark's not really reading it. "People sometimes recognize me," he says, as Eduardo walks up. "It's not bad during the day, because everybody dismisses it, but when they're drunk people usually think it's a fun game to point out how close the similarities are."

Eduardo doesn't know what to say.

"It's uncomfortable," Mark says at last, and looks at the seat next to him. "Could you sit down?"

Eduardo does.

"I realize this will sound--" Mark stops. "Did you sit because I told you to?"

"Yes," Eduardo says, because it's true and also the safest answer.

"Oh," Mark says, pausing. "Anyway, I was going to say - I never realized how recognizable I would be."

"You're the king," Eduardo points out, tentatively.

"Yes, I know," Mark says, tipping his chin up. "I fully realize how ridiculous that sounds." He looks fragilely proud, as if Eduardo thinking him stupid would be one of the most terrible things to happen to him.

"Not ridiculous," Eduardo says quietly instead. "As the prince you weren't nearly as public, and your mother kept you away while you were still a child. Now that you, or some version of you, is king, you're a lot more prominent than she let you be. It's not just your perspective - I never met you before your mother died, and I work for your family. You were more hidden."

"She kept me away from things with crowds," Mark says unexpectedly. "I was never good at them."

For a moment he looks so wretchedly sad that Eduardo wants to reach for him and offer to fix everything. He can't, of course, but it's that more than anything that makes him speak. "I owe you my loyalty," Eduardo says, words awkward and not really what he means. He inclines his head as best he can when he's still sitting even with Mark.

Mark looks confused. "You already promised you'd help us if I proved who I was." Then his face clears and he watches Eduardo again with that oddly distant appraisal. "Oh, you mean in an official capacity."

"You're the royal family," Eduardo says. "I'm already sworn to you, but since I broke it--"

"Accidentally," Mark says. "You weren't the only one fooled."

"But I still owe you--"

"Can it wait?" Mark asks. "I appreciate it, but it seems pointless when I'm not actually a royal anything right now. Help us, and you can swear whatever you need to once we're done."

That is really not the point, but Eduardo is starting to understand that, even if Mark knows that, he doesn't particularly care. "Of course," he says.

Mark nods sharply and picks the book back up. Eduardo gets up at the dismissal, reeling from the conflicting signals.

Chris decides then that it is more than late enough for the bar to close, and kicks everyone out but the four of them. The waitress looks mildly disappointed at being separated from Dustin; Dustin looks devastated. It's dampened someone by all the slurring, but Eduardo's pretty sure he can hear the whining from halfway across the room.

Mark snorts, and Eduardo looks over. He's looking at Dustin fondly, and Eduardo wonders how well they know each other. Two years - that's an awfully long time.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eduardo says quietly, while Chris shoves a glass of water at Dustin and tries to get him to stay upright on a stool at the bar.

"Uh huh," Mark says.

"Why did it take you two years to get this far?" he asks. "Why didn't you start trying to steal the keys to the palace until a couple of months ago?" It shouldn't have even taken them that long to discover where the old copies of the keys were kept; Mark should've known.

Mark shrugs at Eduardo, face blank. "It wouldn't have mattered anyway, since we couldn't have gotten the code without you." It's not the subtlest attempt at redirection Eduardo's ever encountered.

"But you didn't know you couldn't get the codes," Eduardo persists, though most of his good manners are cringing at it.

"Come here!" Dustin calls, waving for them, and Chris shakes his head and sits on the stool next to him.

They go obediently, though Mark leaves the stupid book at the table, cracked open. "What?" he says, when they get within armsreach.

"We have to decide what to do now," Dustin informs them. "We'll be able to get access to the palace, so now we need to find a way to get in and catch the stupid king."

"I think further plotting can wait until morning," Chris says, amused, and Dustin looks vastly irritated.

"I'm tired of waiting," he informs them. Chris' expression doesn't change. "Fine," he says at last, reluctant. "Let's go, Mark."

"Go where?" Eduardo asks, reaching out to catch Mark's sleeve.

"Home," Dustin says, as if he were stupid. "We have to sleep somewhere."

"You can stay here," Eduardo says. Chris looks surprised, Mark is staring between Eduardo and Dustin, and Dustin is suspicious.

"I know you don't like me," he says. "Why would I stay and let you slit my throat while I sleep?"

"You've slept here before," Chris points out.

"Shh! Don't tell _him_ that!" Dustin hisses.

Eduardo avoids rolling his eyes. He's never done it before, and he has no intention of starting now. It's a bad habit, like most of Dustin.

"They only live a couple of streets down," Chris says, "so Dustin has a point. There's no reason they should stay here."

"I just think it would be better to stay here," Eduardo says. "The guards did see Dustin today, and just in case they still want to track him down, I think they would both be safer here."

"What, are you going to protect us?" Dustin snorts.

"Yes," Eduardo says simply, gritting his teeth against the wide-eyed look they all give him.

And then Dustin starts laughing. "Aw, you want to take care of Mark. That is so cute."

Mark says, "He's feeling guilty about someone trying to kill me years ago and is trying needlessly to redeem himself."

"Are you sure he doesn't just want to tie you to his bed again?" Dustin asks, still grinning.

"Shut up, Dustin," Mark says.

Eduardo tips his head back to look at the ceiling and starts counting the beams. He's not quite used to having his motives laid out so starkly; particularly not when they're so embarrassing.

"It's a good idea," Chris says quietly. "He's right about the guards for tonight, anyway."

"Thank you," Eduardo says, vindicated.

"Dustin can sleep with me," and that sets Dustin's giggles off again, which Chris ignores, "and you can keep Mark with you."

"And tomorrow?" Mark asks.

"Mark, we aren't allowed to do any planning until daylight," Dustin tells him, almost solemnly, and then leans over to blow at Chris' ear because he likes the faces Chris makes.

Eduardo has to admit, it is pretty funny.

\---

Mark won't let Eduardo sleep on the floor.

"I'm not putting you on the floor," Eduardo says. "So please give me the blankets and go to sleep."

"Of course I'm not sleeping on the floor," Mark says, looking appalled at the idea. "We are going to share."

"No, that's not--"

"You're sworn to my family and therefore to me," Mark says. He looks abruptly pleased. "So I'm ordering you to get in bed."

Eduardo has no idea where to even begin with that. Mark takes advantage of his bemusement to bury himself up to his nose under the covers and glare, entirely unthreateningly, out at Eduardo.

"Now," he says.

Eduardo goes, but feels obligated to inform him, "You're odd." He has no problem believing the royalty thing, though - Mark is just like his mother in the weirdest ways, apparently including the juvenile delight in ordering people around. A privilege they're born with, but Eduardo supposes it's nice they at least appreciate it, even if he feels that Mark, like his mother had, is failing to quite grasp the implications. Instead of coming off as a benign ruler he's distinctly reminiscent of a bossy six year old. It's probably the undertones of smug superiority that he projects every time someone actually listens.

Eduardo fits himself onto the bed, carefully away from Mark, and stares at the ceiling. He makes himself count to fifty before he looks over at Mark, who's already asleep. Then he wiggles around to make himself comfortable.

\---

Mark isn't awake when Eduardo gets up the next morning, and he's not sure how to go about waking up someone who has migrated their way to the foot of the bed and shoved the pillow over their head. If it were anyone else he'd just kick them.

"Come on, then."

Eduardo can hear Dustin as soon as he reaches the bottom landing. He's quiet as he comes out, and Dustin has his back to him. Chris is nowhere to be seen.

"Seriously, you think they're just sleeping late?"

"I think Eduardo is too responsible to sleep with his king," Chris calls, from the back room. There were probably deliveries this morning that he's putting away. "And I don't know Mark as well as you, but I haven't seen him interested in sleeping with anyone."

"So yes, you think they're sleeping late," Dustin says. He's disappointed.

"Actually," Eduardo says mildly. "Mark is sleeping late."

"He's lazy," Dustin says quickly, probably a reflex. He jumped when Eduardo spoke.

"Do you need help, Chris?" Eduardo calls, glaring at Dustin, who doesn't look guilty at all for not volunteering to help. He does look hungover, and if he were anyone else Eduardo wouldn't begrudge him the laziness.

"No," Chris says, coming out and shutting the storage room door. He smiles at Eduardo. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Have you eaten?" Eduardo asks. "I can go to the bakery and get something."

"I'm going to go wake Mark up," Dustin offers, cheerful, and then clambers his way up the stairs. Chris winces every time he accidentally kicks the wall. There's a reason Dustin is a terrible thief.

All three are in Chris' office when he gets back, with a bag too full of pastries. From the way Dustin and Mark eye it, he's pretty sure there won't be too much left over. He snags the cinnamon bread on top for himself and then hands it to Chris, who takes his muffin before setting it on the desk, where Dustin falls on it. Mark seems content to take everything Dustin doesn't touch, so Eduardo doesn't worry about it too much.

When Dustin is still busy inhaling his food and Mark has settled into picking his apart into pieces, Chris says, "So what do we do now?"

"Well, with all of the keys and the codes we just need to get into the palace," Dustin says.

As if it's that simple. "I hate to ask," Eduardo says slowly, "but are you sure the king doesn't know Mark is still alive?"

Mark says, "What do you mean?"

"Whoever this is," Eduardo says, "is well-established. You don't know if they had anyone helping them, or how they got into the palace, never mind nearly killing Mark and then getting his body back out."

"So?" Mark says.

"They're smart," Eduardo says bluntly. "Smart enough that I've spoken to them several times and never noticed anything that made me suspect they weren't actually royal. Smart enough they got past the coronation ceremonies and got themselves crowned in the first place."

"How did they do that?" Dustin says, abruptly rejoining them. "I don't know very much about how it works, but isn't it designed to catch shifters like that?"

"Yes," Mark says.

"Have any of you looked into how they did it?" Eduardo asks, and sees Chris shake his head.

"I've been focusing on how to get back to the throne before worrying about how someone else got there," Mark says dryly.

"Of course," Eduardo says quietly.

"I like having your master around," Dustin tells Eduardo. "You're so well trained."

"He doesn't have to do anything he chooses not to," Mark snaps, except of course that isn't true at all. Dustin smirks at Eduardo when Mark turns back around. Chris reaches over and slaps his shoulder.

"Will you give me time to see if I can figure out what happened that night?" Eduardo asks. "You waited this long, it shouldn't be more than a couple of weeks." Without knowing what happened, walking in and trying to get rid of the impostor is incredibly dangerous. They might get Mark on the throne only for someone to take him right back off.

"No," Mark says flatly. Eduardo stares at him. "Don't look at me like that. You've heard the rumors about the western border. The king is going to start a war soon."

"And you--" Chris starts, but Mark waves a hand at him, dismissing it.

"And I know my politics," he says. "Whoever is ruling right now doesn't."

"That seems freakishly altruistic," Dustin says.

"Fuck off," Mark says, without heat, as if this is something they've talked about before.

"So we have to get you back on the throne as quickly as possible," Eduardo says.

"Yes, we do," Mark says, and Eduardo presses his lips together, and nods.

\---

They spend the rest of the morning arguing about exactly how many risks they can take with getting Mark back in without giving Eduardo an early heart attack from stress and worry. Dustin wants to go in immediately, kill the impostor in his sleep, see who he turns into when the shifter is dead and the talent doesn't hold, and then just stick Mark in his place. Chris is on Eduardo's side - he wants to spend as much time Mark will give them trying to find a way to get into the palace without endangering themselves or any unknowning guards, and time to talk to the impostor in hopes of finding out how they got themself onto the throne.

"For what it's worth," Chris says to Eduardo, while they open up the bar, "I'm glad you know about this now. I spent all my time worrying when it was just Dustin and Mark skulking around."

"Just Dustin and Mark?" Eduardo says in an undertone, and smiles at the family that comes through the front door looking for lunch. "I doubt it was either of them that found out where the old copies of the keys are kept. And I know you told Mark how to get to the lower level of the monastery." Mark would've been to the monastery before, as the prince, but nobody went to the archives except the monks. Eduardo had only been in there once, and that was only to make sure he'd caught everyone.

"Do you think it was a coincidence?" Eduardo asks Chris, while Chris gets the first round of drink orders ready. One of the waitresses heads over to take the family's order - it's Laurie, today, and she smiles at them.

"What was?" Chris asks, but then Dustin and Mark wander out, and Mark's appearance causes a stir, and Eduardo has to shove the both of them back into the office.

"Can't you stay put?" Eduardo asks, exasperated. "It will only be a half an hour or so."

"Maybe we want to help," Dustin says testily, and tries to edge around Eduardo.

Eduardo collars him and shoves him towards a chair.

Dustin hides before he hits the chair, and Eduardo has a knife in his hand before he thinks about it.

"What are you doing?" Mark asks, sounding disgusted. Eduardo ignores him.

The paper rustles on Chris' desk, Dustin picks up a paperweight, and Eduardo dives forward.

"What?" Chris says loudly from the doorway.

The paperweight almost hits him, because Dustin has shitty aim, and apparently startles easily.

"Stop it," Mark says. Eduardo hesitates, attention split, and Mark stands up, steps in front of Eduardo and says, "Put the knife away."

"Not until I can see him," Eduardo says lowly.

"No," Mark says. "You don't like each other, fine, but he's not the one who's threatening to kill anyone. Put it away."

Eduardo rocks back onto his heels, startled, but all his promises to help aren't worth much if he doesn't listen to Mark now. Even Chris is watching him warily.

He puts the knife away.

Dustin shows up on the far side of Chris' desk, pale and frightened. "Why do you have a thing about killing me?" he demands.

Eduardo shakes his head.

"I need your help, Dustin. Cella is sick, and Marie won't be able to come and cover for another hour." Chris waits by the door until Dustin circles around carefully, and then shuts the door quietly behind them.

Mark doesn't seem angry. Mark doesn't seem particularly affected at all. It makes it harder to meet his eyes. "Care to explain?" he asks.

"It's not interesting," Eduardo says hoarsely, ashamed. He hadn't thought he had so many issues, still.

"We have to sit here for at least an hour," Mark says.

"I told you I do this because it's in my family," Eduardo says, taking a deep breath. "So my father spent years training me. Before I took over his role he stepped aside and let me do his job with his supervision. It involved anything your mother asked of us, obviously, as well as keeping an eye on things going on around the city. We also helped the head of security.

"He and my father had always tested the guards every so often, to catch anyone who wasn't doing their job. My father didn't have a talent, but since I could hide I made better practice for them. Two weeks before my father officially retired, the head of security decided it was time for another training drill.

"So I waited until dusk and started at the south entrance. I always wandered around the outer edge and then headed inside, usually to the library or treasury. The guards didn't catch me until I was through the innermost doors, and then I got loose. They called everyone nearby to help find me, but unfortunately, a thief used the distraction to come in behind me. he made off with several statues and paintings from the gallery while everyone was looking for me."

"Dustin," Mark says.

Eduardo grimaces. "Yes. It wasn't until the next day that anything was discovered missing."

"And your father blamed you?" Mark says. "I remember my mother mentioning this, actually."

"It turned out that my father and the head of security had hired Dustin to do it. The guards had gotten too used to the training drill, and he wanted to teach them not to take anything for granted. But my father was testing me, too. I hadn't noticed Dustin following me in, and had actually been the cause of his crime, and my father made it more than clear that wasn't acceptable.

"He told me to track Dustin own and get the art back, but I couldn't find him. Two weeks later, my father told the Queen that he wasn't sure I'd ever be ready. She made him retire anyway.

"The head of security had been counting on my catching Dustin. When I didn't he fired some of the guards as punishment for letting Dustin steal, as if it had been a real crime."

"Well," Mark says, "I suppose I can understand why you would be pissed at Dustin, but your father sounds worse."

Eduardo snorts but doesn't argue. "That's not it, though. Dustin wasn't supposed to actually take anything. They hired him to sneak in and then leave. Unfortunately, the temptation was too great. He ruined three mens' lives and destroyed my relationship with my father and the rest of the guard."

"Yes," Mark says, "but it was still your father's doing. What did he expect? And why didn't _he_ find Dustin?"

"Because it was my job," Eduardo tries to explain.

"Where is he now?"

Eduardo shrugs and looks away uncomfortably. "He and my mother moved after he retired."

"You haven't seen your parents for five years?"

"No," Eduardo says. "And I ran into Dustin one evening a couple of years ago, but Chris made us leave each other alone--"

"He barely stopped you from killing Dustin?" Mark guesses.

"And there wouldn't have been much point by then, honestly." Eduardo ignores Mark's input.

Mark has his head tipped back against the wall and his mouth pulled to the side. "I understand," he says.

"What?" Eduardo asks. He had never predicted a reaction like that.

"I don't blame Dustin for being terrified of you. But fear's healthy, or good for you, or something. The first guard I ever had went on about that." Mark frowns. "He'll get over it."

Eduardo huffs quietly. "I'm sure he'd appreciate being told that."

"Well, he can't get over it until you start leaving him alone." Mark looks at Eduardo finally, picking his head up and blinking over at him. "You should also apologize."

"You think I should apologize?" Eduardo says disbelievingly. He's not sure if it's how uncharacteristic that seems for Mark, or how incongruous it would be to actually attempt to apologize for everything at this point.

Mark shrugs. "I think that's what Chris would say, isn't it? You can always ask him what else he suggests."

"He's already been in the middle of this for years," Eduardo says. "I never wanted to talk to him about it and make it harder."

"You should've," Mark says. "He could've helped you two a lot earlier, probably." He pauses. "Or maybe the next time one of you sneezes in the wrong direction you'll kill each other."

"Very funny," Eduardo says. His voice sticks in his throat.

"So I was thinking that, whatever we decide, I'm going to need clothes."

"You don't have any?" Eduardo asks, which admittedly sounds like a fairly stupid question, but is hardly deserving of the look Mark levels him with.

"I have clothes to dress like a normal townsperson. When we go running through the castle don't you think I should be dressed like the king?"

Eduardo blinks. "Yes, actually."

Mark keeps talking. "Even if we don't get caught, it can't hurt. And if we do get caught, it might be the saving grace. Confusing enough to keep the guards from killing us on site."

"You're right," Eduardo says.

"If they do catch us, they'll want to question me, since they'll naturally assume I'm a shifter."

"Yes," Eduardo says.

Mark says, "You're agreeing with me."

"Yes, I am," Eduardo says. "You're right. It's a good idea."

Mark says, "Obviously. Chris said you have a tailor?"

"I have someone we can ask, yes," Eduardo says. He has no idea when Chris and Mark had time to talk about it, but he doesn't ask. "Do you know your measurements? Asking her to make clothes like His Majesty's will be odd enough without presenting her with a living duplicate."

Mark shrugs.

"We'll work on that," Eduardo says. "I can drop them off tomorrow morning. She won't have the order done immediately; it will take a couple of days."

Looking disappointed, Mark nods. Eduardo is relieved - this gives them a couple of days where they won't have any choice but to take extra time planning. He can contrive a reason to visit the king; if he sneaks Dustin in with him then that will make three of the four of them who will know the layout of the palace.

"It will give you time to get a haircut," he adds, as an afterthought.

"Ugh," Mark says, with feeling.

When Chris hesitantly brings Dustin back in with him a while later Eduardo steels himself. "I owe you an apology," he says, and waits for Dustin's gloating.

Dustin nods at him slowly and says, "I'm sorry, too, for what it's worth."

"Thank you?" Eduardo says, surprised.

Dustin cracks a smile and adds, "I can return everything when we get Mark back on the throne."

"You still have it?" Eduardo checked markets for months, asking around for them. When nobody ever had any of the pieces he'd assumed Dustin had snuck them out of the city.

"Yeah," Dustin says. "I felt guilty for taking advantage. I was going to give them to you, but you kept trying to strangle me."

"Oh," Eduardo says, flushing hotly.

"Aw," Chris says, and looks chagrined when they stare at him, as if the noise had been unintentional.

\---

The rest of the day is an exercise in patience. Mark is easily bored, which surprises Eduardo not at all. He decides the cheap romance novel isn't worth his attention after all, and Eduardo only barely rescues it before he tosses it out with the leftover food. Mark digs through the rest of Eduardo's books, with Eduardo looking on and cringing every time Mark opens his mouth to make a disparaging comment, but nothing meets his approval and Eduardo gets tired of being mocked. It is hardly his fault that their taste in reading doesn't overlap, but Mark sees it as a personal failing.

Eduardo appeals to Chris for help, but Chris is a traitor and unearths a chess board.

It entertains Mark, at least, but five minutes in and Eduardo decides that, sovereign or no, Mark has an attitude problem and needs to be taken down a notch. Beating him turns out to be fairly easy, since Mark only thinks one or two moves ahead and keeps getting distracted by things like whether Eduardo bites his fingernails and how many knives he has.

Then Dustin gets kicked out from behind the bar by one of the bartenders, who is sick of him sticking his fingers in drinks to taste them, and Dustin brings over three decks of cards and proceeds to try to teach them the most complicated card game Eduardo has ever heard of.

Mark listens obediently, trying to memorize the rule, but by the time Dustin lays out the third deck and starts talking about counting scores only in even numbers Eduardo _knows_ he's making it up.

He's still allowed behind the bar, so he lends himself to Chris.

"Is he cheating?" Chris asks, casting a look over and Dustin. From here, you can see the extra cards in his back pockets.

"No, not yet," Eduardo says dryly. "We haven't even started a game yet."

"He makes up his own rules," Chris warns.

"I noticed," Eduardo says, and takes the next tray of orders to keep himself busy.

It gets slower eventually, though, and Mark comes at sits at the bar because he gave up on deciphering Dustin's rules. Dustin goes on about his victory until Chris drops a stool on his foot.

"How about poker?" Chris suggests at last, desperately, and Dustin lights up.

Eduardo is terrible at poker, because he can't bluff to save his life, and Chris is almost as bad. Mark is much better at poker than he is at chess, and it ends up being he and Dustin against each other, with Chris slapping the back of Dustin's head every time he tries to cheat.

It's not as awkward, spending time with Dustin, as Eduardo would have thought. They probably will never be the greatest of friends, but when Dustin looks up, appealing for rescue from Chris' tyranny, Eduardo doesn't have the blinding urge to point something sharp at him. It's an improvement.

Mark looks over, as if he suspects what Eduardo is thinking, and he smiles a little, soft. He ducks his head immediately after, hiding his face, and Eduardo sees him drop the bad card in his lap. He likes Mark much more than Dustin, though, so he doesn't say anything, just sneaks one out of the extra decks and hands it over, quietly.

Dustin refuses to stay over that night. Nobody mentions Mark leaving, so Eduardo doesn't care either way, but Chris looks anxious.

"It's not exactly subtle to stay over multiple nights in a row. Your own employees would start getting curious," Dustin points out. "And besides, I'll be fine. If anyone comes after me I'll come running over here. I'm not much safer here than we were last night, anyway, since we slept downstairs and Eduardo was all the way upstairs with Mark. I can yell for help out on the street or from my room as easily as I can do it here."

"Goodnight," Mark says.

Dustin waves at him cheerfully, but he gets to the door and says, "But seriously, Eduardo, if either of them get hurt and you're not already dead I will get revenge."

Eduardo nods gravely. Dustin hops down to the street and is around the corner before Chris locks the door.

\---

He doesn't sleep as late the next morning, so nobody is around when he gets up. They forgot to get Mark's measurements last night, and while Christy can doubtlessly design a good outfit if Eduardo explains it needs to look royal, she can't do it without his sizing.

"Mark," he hisses, kneeling back onto the bed and touching Mark's shoulder. "Mark, wake up."

Mark grumbles and slits an eye open.

"Do you know your measurements?"

After getting a noise that may or may not be an actual word, Eduardo nudges Mark's shoulder again. Mark shoves back at him, weakly, and rolls over, flailing around for something. Eduardo is about to give up, or maybe go get Chris to help, but Mark comes up with paper and pen and scribbles down a series of numbers. He shoves it at Eduardo wordlessly and then shuts his eyes again, squirming around to get away from the sunlight.

"You're lazy," Eduardo tells him. Mark doesn't reply.

\---

"Why the sudden increase in early visits?" Christy asks him. "You can't be this interested in seeing me."

"Actually, I'm here for your business today," Eduardo says, standing up. He tries to subtly stretch - the steps up to her shop are not the most comfortable resting place. "Can you make an outfit for me? I can pay you." He also hands over her standard breakfast, an easy bribe to start things off right.

She looks suspicious. "You can't need more clothes already."

"Not for me," he says. "For a friend."

"Where are they? I'll need their measurements." She unlocks the door, and Eduardo holds it open for her. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Here, we wrote them down," he says. She takes the paper and stares at it intensely. "Is something wrong?"

"This isn't your handwriting," she says.

"No," Eduardo says, wondering why that matters. "It's his."

"It's on a piece of paper from the journal I gave you," she continues. "The journal you keep by your bed."

"Um, yes," Eduardo says. "That is where he got the paper."

"What is he doing in your room?" she asks, and slaps the paper down on her counter. "Who is this person?"

"He's staying with us," Eduardo says, because that sounds far better than either _he's sleeping with me_.

"Right," she says skeptically. "I want to meet him."

"Sure," Eduardo lies. "Will you make the clothes, though?"

Christy makes a face. "Fine. Anything, or does he have a preference?"

"Well, he needs something pretty specific," Eduardo says, wincing. "How good are you at imitating the clothes the king wears?"

Raising her eyebrows, Christy says, "I've done very formal clothes. They take a while, though. What does he need with them?"

"Please don't ask," Eduardo says. "Please."

"You never tell me anything," she complains. "I _know_ what you do. There can't be anything more secretive or dangerous to know."

"You'd be surprised," he mutters, which was a mistake.

"Eduardo!" she says.

"Please, Christy?"

She agrees reluctantly, and she glares at him all the way out the door, promising only at the last minute to send him a message when the clothes are ready to be picked up.

\---

There's nothing else to do that day, so when Mark wakes up a little before noon Chris takes him and tries to teach him how to work the restaurant while Eduardo sits in a corner and tries not to laugh too obviously. Mark is terrible at it. He forgets people's orders, refuses to write things down, doesn't make eye contact with the kids, thinks one drink is as good as another, and sees no actual problems with the food he brings every time he screws up.

Chris gives up after an hour and sends him back to sit with Eduardo, though by that time half the people in the bar are staring vengefully at him, unmitigated by his close resemblance to the king.

"Terrible," Mark says, and Eduardo cannot tell whether he means the customers, Chris, or the entire profession, and so says nothing at all.

Dustin finally gets sent over to join them after he upsets one of the waitresses with a mistimed joke, and he tries to get them to play cards again. Mark refuses. Chris offers to let Mark look through his books, which are, in general, a much better selection. Mark refuses. A girl comes up and asks Mark, shyly, if he would like to buy her a drink. Mark refuses.

Eduardo decides Mark could do with leaving the building. He doesn't give Mark a chance to refuse.

However, after Mark has vetoed four restaurants and every café within four blocks, Eduardo is despairing.

"Can we go back now?" Mark asks, and yawns.

"I'm afraid someone is going to try to hurt you soon if you don't behave better," Eduardo warns.

"You wouldn't let them," Mark says. "It's hot out here."

Eduardo concedes defeat, but they stop by the market on the way to get groceries for dinner that night. Mark stares at everything they buy as if it's foreign, but he has definite opinions about what dishes he'll eat.

When they get back home, Chris is more than happy to let Eduardo borrow a corner of the kitchen to cook in, given his promise to keep Mark occupied and away from the customers. Dustin has already been sent home.

"Why can you cook?" Mark asks, sitting in a chair and staring at Eduardo's hands as he chops beef and vegetables for stew.

Eduardo laughs. "Not all of us have cooks working for us."

"No, but you live above a restaurant," Mark says. "I doubt there's a shortage of meals."

Humming, Eduardo scoops everything into the pot with the broth. He pours in the wine and says, "I don't always feel like relying on Chris' generosity. Besides, I like cooking. It's peaceful."

"Are you good at it?" Mark asks.

"You'll find out," Eduardo says. "Here, you can help me. Chop these. The pieces need to be bite-sized."

Mark takes the potatoes obediently, and then surveys the array of knives on the counter near him. Eduardo is about to hand him one before Mark selects the cleaver, eyes it distrustfully, and then slams it down onto the potato. The potato halves go flying in different directions, and Mark looks determined. Before he can try it again on a different vegetable, Eduardo snatches it from him and gives him the utility knife instead.

"Be careful," Eduardo says, which gets him a dirty look. "Don't lose any fingers."

Mark starts back in on the potatoes, with relatively more success. The stew, when it's finally done, is delicious.

\---

There's quiet, hurried tapping right after dawn that wakes him the next morning. It's Chris, looking worried, and he hands Eduardo an envelope. It's from the king, summoning him.

Eduardo nods at Chris and shuts the door again. He dresses in the dark, avoiding disturbing Mark, though Mark has proven himself more than capable of sleeping through any disturbance they've thrown at him so far.

\---

Eduardo nods at the guards as he passes through the front gates. They wave at him as they go by on their rounds, and Eduardo is relieved they don't seem suspicious of him.

He taps his code into the door and enters teh palace. He's always thought it was beuatiful, with the walls of windows and curving design, but for the first time, he notices how still it is, how empty, as if the silence from the Queen's funeral had never quite left.

The king is in the front audience chamber waiting for him. he says, "Hello, Eduardo. Thank you for coming so quickly."

Eduardo stares. It's Mark giving him a smile and speaking with a slow drawl and sprawled back in a chair as if he'd just woken from a nap. It's the worst possible impersonation of the real Mark anyone could have done.

"Your majesty," he says, and bows.

The king nods at him. "First I want to thank you for taking care of the monastery. You were very thorough."

Eduardo grits his teeth. "As you requested."

"Yes," the king says. "However, I also wanted to ask you a question about that night."

Eduardo waits silently. He's careful to keep his gaze even.

"Did you notice anyone besides the monks?"

Holding his breath, Eduardo says, "I don't understand. Only the monks were allowed in the monastery." There's no way the king could know Mark was there.

The king sighs. "That is true. But once the fire in the monastery had burned out I had several groups of guards go through the underground vaults to recover our artifacts. There were a few things missing."

Eduardo swallows hard and asks, "Can you tell em what? I would be more than happy to see if I can locate them for you."

"No," the king says, waving his hand. "I doubt you'd find anything. Most of the missing items are the ones we suspected the monastery of using ot line their pockets. It seems we were right in our suspicions, so it's a good thing we intervened when we did. The only thing that concerns me is that the old copies of the keys to the underground passages are missing."

"Ah," Eduardo says, and waits.

"Also, and you may have heard this from the guards, there was an attack on the guards a few days ago. It was shortly after they were given their new entrance codes, and they suspect the attacker was after those. It might be a coincidence, but when it's considered with the missing keys and the way an underground gate was forced open, I become concerned." The king looks at him when he's finished, expectant.

"That is concerning," Eduardo says, cursing Mark's carelessness with the keys, and his own for leaving the gate unsealed.

"Well," the king says, "I've had the lower entrances closed off, so it's really nothing ot worry about. I was hoping, however, you'd be willing to track down who took the keys. They were probably working with the monks - they were willing to betray their kingdom one way, perhaps they were considering more severe crimes - and I'd like the loose ends tied up."

"I understand," Eduardo says faintly. "Do you have any idea who it might be?"

"The guards have mentioned seeing someone who looks like me sneaking around, so it's obviously a shifter. It could be anyone." The king laughs. "Not a very intelligent saboteur, I must say. There's no better way to draw attention to yourself than by impersonating the monarch."

"I'll look into it," Eduardo says, nearly gagging on the irony.

"Let me know what you find," the king says. He waves brightly as Eduardo bows and leaves, which is enormously disconcerting. Mark's face was never meant to hold an expression like that.

\---

He hurries back home as quickly as he can. There is no way the king doesn't know, at this point, that Mark's assassination hadn't worked - the first or the second time. The monks had almost accomplished what the impostor hadn't, but they weren't likely part of any plot except greed. They were well known for their violent tendencies toward intruders, and they would have assaulted a king as easily as a commoner for breaking in. Still, he needs to make sure nobody but the monks saw Mark breaking into the monastery that night.

"What's wrong?" Eduardo yells at Chris as soon as he gets in the bar. It's packed to capacity, everyone talking loudly about something. He has to wade his way toward the bar, and even then it's too loud for Chris to answer. He just shakes his head and waves Eduardo towards the office.

Behind closed doors the noise subsides a bit, but the volume is still too loud. It'd be too loud for a weekend night, never mind the middle of the day on a work day.

Mark is sitting in Chris' desk chair, flipping a pen around in his hands, and Dustin is sitting on the desk in front of him. They both look over anxiously when Eduardo comes in.

"Where were you?" Dustin demands.

"I had to go see the king," Eduardo says. "What's going on?"

"It's the king," Mark says. "He's put a statement in all the newspapers and has the guards going around, warning people that there's an impostor in the city and asking for any information people have." Mark's mouth quirks at the end, as if he finds the irony amusing.

"That's what he wanted to speak to me about," Eduardo says numbly, and sits on the desk as well. "He wanted to know if I had seen anyone at the monastery the night the keys were stolen."

"What did you tell him?" Dustin asks, fingers curling into his palms.

"That there was nobody there but the monks, of course," Eduardo sighs. "He's not very good at this."

"What do you mean?" Mark tilts his head.

Eduardo gestures around. "This public announcement. Now everyone is just frightened. He's going to get too many reports of suspicious activity from people who don't actually know anything, and any real information will get lost in the mess. And if you were just a normal shifter, it would tell you what form to avoid and possibly be your cue to leave the city."

"But everyone who's been here the past couple of days has seen Mark!" Dustin says. "They're all going to inform the guards they saw Mark here!"

"Which is why nobody can see Mark here again," Eduardo says grimly. "In fact, nobody can see Mark again at all."

"I always wanted to be a shut in," Mark says.

"Congratulations," Eduardo says. "But on a positive note, I now support Dustin. We need to get into the palace as quickly as possible."

"Tonight?" Dustin asks, eager.

"No, Mark's clothes aren't ready. They won't be until the end of the week." Eduardo looks around. "Until then, we get ready. I have to teach you two how to sneak around a bit better - the underground passages are sealed, so we need to go in through the front. I'd prefer to avoid killing guards, if possible, so there's less reason to suspect anything happened when the king suddenly has a dead shifter thrown out for attempting to murder him. Less violence also means less possibility we'll be caught."

"But sneaky violence is what you do," Dustin says.

"Which is why I only have to teach you two," Eduardo says, slowly.

"Three," Chris says, from the doorway. "Don't worry," he adds, at their expressions, "I kicked everyone out with the assurance that, since I have a close association with one in the king's employ, there is no dangerous shifter here."

"Wonderful," Eduardo says, sighing. He'll have to move.

"I didn't say what exactly your employ is," Chris says.

"Why do you want to come into the palace with us?" Mark asks, frowning.

"For the same reason Dustin does, I imagine," Chris says dryly. "It's not as if, with Eduardo's help, you really need him--"

"Thanks," Dustin says.

Chris ignores him. "But we've come this far and we're going to see it through."

"You're curious about who the impostor is," Mark translates.

"Obviously," Dustin says, and kicks him.

\---

The next three days nearly are an exercise in patience.

First, they have to get Mark out of bed on time. Chris is too gentle to get him up at all, adn Dustin flat out refuses to try, claiming experience with the futility of it, which leaves Eduardo. He can get Mark awake, but getting him dressed and downstairs before he can squirm himself back into bed is a trial - on the second day Dustin offers to feed Mark if Eduardo gets him downstairs, which helps; Eduardo just shoves him out of the room with pants and locks the door behind him.

Then they use the empty restaurant for practice space until Chris opens for lunch. Training, unfortunately, did not go well.

Chris flat out refused to hold a knife, claiming pacifism. Dustin still got nervous around Eduardo and knives. Mark stood there yawning because it was before noon, and he had an aversion to any behaviors that might potentially increase his chances of survival, like listening to Eduardo.

When he finally got knives into their hands - except for Chris, because he was remarkably stubborn and could be rather frightening, especially when he wore that expression - and taught them how to properly hold those knives - Dustin kept holding it in his fist and looking pleased with himself - and told them they weren't actually going to practice anything impressive like throwing the knives - both Mark and Dustin had looked disappointed; Chris relieved - Eduardo had difficulty conceiving of how to teach them to fight without setting them against each other, which seemed like it would be asking for it.

Eventually he settled on practicing with them individually and using pills as targets, but Mark kept wandering off, bored, and neither of them wanted to do the repetition that would build the muscle memory they needed.

Eduardo privately swore off teaching forever.

Nothing was helped by the way Chris and Dustin were constantly at each other's throats. Because it was too risky for Mark if Dustin was connected with him, and the neighbors were more likely to be suspicious of Mark if they saw Dustin without him, Dustin stayed with Chris every night. The prolonged exposure in close quarters had them tense and unhappy. Neither would explain why, so Eduardo couldn't help.

The rest of the day Eduardo spent out, occasionally helping the guards search for the shifter but more often poking around on his own. He hadn't found anything at the monastery that could lead to Mark, adn he retraced all their steps, making sure anything incriminating was taken care of. He sent a note to the king at the end of every day with false tips.

When he got back each evening, he always found Mark squirreled away upstairs, poring over newspapers from all over the kingdom. Eduardo wasn't sure what Mark was looking for, but he was mostly relieved Mark was keeping himself occupied. Dustin even swore he was paying for them, even if he was going around hidden to get them. Eduardo decided to believe he was leaving change on the shop counters, to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The third evening, Eduardo comes back late. He'd ended up trailing a group of guards who were digging too closely into the monastery ashes, and he was worried the king had told them to look for something else. They'd turned out to be scavenging, which was not something Eduardo was concerned about right now.

On the way home he makes sure to skirt his way around the palace. The guards have been swarming recently, not least because they're all on duty searching for the shifter, and he doesn't have the time or inclination to talk to a guard and contrive some false scenario or location for them to investigate.

The bar is quiet when he gets back - Chris depressed will do that to people, and it's a good thing this will be over soon or his expression will drive him out of business.

"Mark and Dustin are upstairs," Chris tells him, before he can ask. "You'll want to go talk to them."

"What's wrong?" Eduardo asks, apprehensive.

"Go talk to Mark," Chris says, and turns back as a customer walks up to the bar.

The door is locked when he tries to open it, so he sighs and knocks. There's really loud shuffling, and then Dustin yells, "No, Chris!"

"It's Eduardo," Eduardo says, "and this is my room."

"Shit, sorry!" Dustin says, and the scrabbles to get the door open.

Mark is sitting on the bed cross-legged, and he nods at Eduardo. Eduardo nods back, and asks, "Why are you two locked in my room?"

"I'm always here," Mark says. "Dustin is hiding from Chris."

"Again. Why?"

"Again," Dustin snorts. He looks affronted.

"You don't want to know," Mark advises.

"They shouldn't be fighting this much," Eduardo says, frowning.

Dustin glares at both of them.

"Besides," Mark adds, "Chris got a note for you this afternoon." He holds out a slip of paper.

Eduardo snatches it - it's from Christy, he recognizes the paper.

_Your mysterious clothing order is ready_ , she's written, _and you can come get it tomorrow. I was going to bring it by but I left it in the shop when I left. See you in the morning! And I expect to be told what all this is about_.

He tells Mark, who doesn't look all that enthusiastic. Dustin makes up for it, jumping up and grabbing Eduardo's note to take downstairs and show Chris.

"He forgives quickly," Eduardo says.

"Don't ask," Mark repeats.

\---

Eduardo stays upstairs with Mark, reading. It's a terrible novel and doesn't keep his interest for more than ten minutes at a time, and at some point he lays his head down and ends up napping. He wakes up to Mark shifting, and the noise from downstairs has gone completely. He pushes himself up and asks Mark, voice rough, "Willing to come downstairs?"

Mark sets the book aside silently and follows Eduardo down the stairs. He trips at the bottom step and Eduardo smiles without meaning to. A week and he still hasn't figured out to pick up his feet. Dustin shuffles, too, but he's had a lot longer to get used to the building.

The restaurant has just closed, all the chairs up on the tables. There's four stools still down at the bar, and Dustin raises a half-full glass at them in a mock salute. "Welcome," he says, somber.

"Drink?" Chris asks, coming out from behind the bar.

"Water," Eduardo says. Mark shakes his head.

Chris gets them two glasses of water and then comes around to sit with the three of them.

"I feel like we should make a toast," Dustin says into the silence, "but I don't know what to."

"Success?" Chris suggests dryly.

"Everything will be fine," Eduardo murmurs, and they all take a drink.

Chris sighs and turns around on the stool, leaning his back against the counter. He stares around the empty room. "Do I open tomorrow?" he asks. "It seems like going about business as usual would be disrespectful to the occasion."

"You have to," Eduardo tells him. "You can't stay closed on a Saturday. It's too suspicious."

"It would be stupid to get caught the day of," Mark says.

"The worst part?" Dustin says. "I can't even get drunk, because I can't afford to be hungover tomorrow."

"You can get drunk afterward," Chris promises him.

"If I'm not dead," Dustin says mournfully. "I should have properly appreciated that night last week, but I didn't think that would be the last time I ever got to get smashed."

"I'm going to bed," Mark announces. He leaves, tripping over the bottom stair.

"It seems you were depressing him, too," Chris says.

"I'm going to bed, too," Dustin tells Eduardo, ignoring Chris. Eduardo doubts that will work well with the whole sharing a bed deal, but he nods and says goodnight anyway.

"So," Chris says. "What are you going to do tomorrow? Since I'm going to be tending bar and trying not to have a panic attack."

"I have to go get Mark's clothes," Eduardo says. "And there's still one or two things I want to look into before we go tomorrow night."

"Are you worried?" Chris asks quietly.

Eduardo shrugs, but he smiles as he stands up to follow Mark. "I'm always worried."

\---

He wakes up because Mark gets out of bed. It's just to go to the bathroom, but when Mark comes back he sprawls down on his stomach and watches Eduardo.

"I never really wanted to be king," Mark says, sudden and hushed.

It's probably one of the last things Eduardo expects to hear. "No?"

Mark huffs quietly, as if he understands what Eduardo is thinking, and closes his eyes. "No," he answers. "Would you?"

"No," Eduardo answers slowly, "but most people would."

Mark nods and opens his eyes again. Eduardo looks back at him, hushed and entirely unprepared for Mark to lean clumsily across and kiss him.

He kisses back instinctively.

Making a noise, Mark clutches at Eduardo's shoulder and pulls, tangling them closer. Eduardo licks at Mark's bottom lip and then pulls back, murmuring, "Mark."

Mark freezes, lifting his head to stare at Eduardo. "You're not doing this because I'm supposed to be your king."

Eduardo is going to laugh, but he meets Mark's eyes and Mark is entirely serious. "No," he says. He repeats, "No," more strongly, when Mark still looks torn.

He shoves them over, pinning Mark's shoulders and glaring. "I can kill you as easily as fuck you," he says roughly, dangerously. "You could make me do many things, but not this."

"Good," Mark says, pleased, and Eduardo watches him for a moment before laughing, because there is nothing else to do with Mark, sometimes.

Mark pulls Eduardo down, setting his teeth back into his shoulder. He hums when Eduardo fumbles their mouths back together, tongue curling in wet and soft. He talks when Eduardo lets him. He says, "Good," again, lowly, but it means something entirely different this time.

\---

Eduardo goes in the morning to get the clothes, leaving before dawn to lessen the chance of anyone seeing him.

He passes by the palace before he goes to the shop, hoping he can beg info from some guards under the guise of concern for the king. However, he's pulled aside by the head of security before he can get to the main gates. The man is new at his job - the palace had gone through his predecessors like water - and he wanted Eduardo's opinions on the new security measures.

"They seem very effective," Eduardo assures him, and tries not to panic.

"Good," Eric says, relieved. "I mean, I was careful to try to cover everything, but with how the king is worried about this shifter, anything could lose me my job."

"I understand," Eduardo says. "I throughly approve. If that's all?"

"Of course!" Eric says, put off by the abruptness. "Thank you."

\---

Christy still isn't in at work when he gets there, which doesn't surprise him. She sleeps late on the weekends - later than normal, even. He knocks the door knob lose, but she actually remember to turn the deadbolt last night so the door doesn't give. He goes to the back window instead, jiggling the top of the pane until there's the squeak that means the latch has popped loose. He lifts the window and slings a leg through, dropping onto the floor and making sure he isn't leaving footprints. She hates when he does that.

The clothes are folded neatly on the end of the counter, wrapped and with a note pinned on top for him. He rips the note off, scribbles a thank you onto the back of it for her, and leaves it in the register before he goes to re-lock the front door and then exit through the window again.

The clothes are heavy, and he intends to leave them on the end of the bed without waking Mark. It's not cowardice - he wants to allow Mark his last morning of late sleep. Even if they succeed, Mark will be too busy the first couple of weeks to do much besides smooth over what the current king has been doing.

He goes straight upstairs when he gets home. Dustin is at a table with a girl and Chris gives him a wan smile as he passes. Mark is sprawled over the unmade bed, papers and books scattered everywhere. He looks at Eduardo and flushes, and then shoves a sheaf of papers underneath himself.

Temporarily diverted, Eduardo asks, "What are you doing?"

Mark shifts uncomfortably. "Reading."

"Reading newspapers and history books?" Eduardo asks. "You've been reading a lot of them."

"Catching up on current events," Mark says stiffly, and starts making a pile out of everything.

Eduardo starts to grin. "Are you studying?"

Mark gives him a dirty look.

"You are," Eduardo says, trying not to coo. Mark probably wouldn't appreciate his endorsement as anything but stupid or possibly embarrassing. "You're planning for when you run the country."

"The current king has done a bad enough job. It's hard for you to comprehend, I know, but sometimes people's messes have consequences," Mark says scathingly.

Eduardo says, "I know. I spent a fair amount of time cleaning up your family's."

Mark huffs. "Was here a reason you came up?"

"Yes," Eduardo says, sobering. "Unfortunately. I need to talk to you downstairs."

"Fine," Mark says, and goes back to dropping his books in the corner.

"As soon as you can," Eduardo adds, strained from the effort of acting unaffected.

Dustin is already back in the office; Eduardo doesn't have the heart to ask what happened to the girl. Chris comes as soon as Eduardo waves for him. "What's wrong?" Chris asks.

"Let's wait until Mark gets here," Eduardo says, and lets himself drop into a chair.

"Oh, that's reassuring," Dustin says darkly.

Dustin loses patience less than a minute later and goes to grab Mark. When Mark comes in, trailing Dustin, neither of them looks happy.

"What is it?" Chris asks immediately.

"We won't be able to sneak in," Eduardo says. "The head of security had me come by to check his new measures. They're very effective, unfortunately."

"What?" Chris repeats sharply. Mark's mouth is pulled down.

"They have an incredible number of guards - enough that they've posted a pair permanently at every gate and every set of doors leading into the palace, as well as the ones who normally do their rounds. We won't be able to sneak past them." Eduardo sighs. "I can take care of two guards, of course, but that means we'll have a very limited amount of time before they notice that set of guards missing. They won't know we've gotten in, of course, but they'll know to start checking."

"How long?" Mark asks.

"It's not possible to know," Eduardo says, looking at him. "Guards may be set to come by on a twenty minute schedule, but when they get lax they might come by much slower or they might skip parts of their patrols and end up coming too early."

Mark looks irritated.

"They're also have guards escort in every visitor to the king," Eduardo adds, though that's the least of his concerns. "Even the servants get accompanied into the king's chambers with a guard."

"So what do we do?" Dustin asks. He looks pale. "We're not giving up."

"No," Eduardo says. "Even if we did, they'd catch Mark eventually. There's only so many people who look exactly like the king, and he can't stay indoors indefinitely."

"Can't you just go in?" Mark asks. "We can follow you in with Dustin hiding us."

"No," Eduardo says. "There would be no reason for me to be there tonight." He smiles humorlessly. "Even when I do go to the palace it's always at the beck and call of the king. I would have to send him a note saying I have information." Mark pointedly looks away from him. Eduardo feels a flash of annoyance.

"Can't you?" Dustin asks. "I mean, so you get escorted in, we see the king, you take care of the two guards like you would have anyway, we deal with the king."

"It's too risky," Mark says quietly. "Even if we all got in and Eduardo took care of the guards and got control of the impostor before he could yell for help - and that many guards, there will always be someone near enough to hear - and have me take the king's place before anyone came, it will still suddenly look as if the shifter made it inside with Eduardo. And there's no reason for Eduardo to bring a hidden shifter in with him unless he's in on the plot."

"You'll be the king!" Dustin says. "Just tell everyone nothing's wrong."

"I can't," Mark says, implacable. "The king isn't exactly well liked, and especially not after this recent bit of paranoia. He's been destroying half the city looking for the shifter. If it turns out that the royal assassin, who most people are in disfavor of anyway, might have been in on it, there will be no way to keep Eduardo from blame. And he can't hide his identity permanently any more than I can."

"Well, it's nice to know we're fucked in advance," Dustin says. "How about that getting drunk?"

"We could use someone to act as bait?" Chris says, hesitantly.

\---

"I need your help," Eduardo tells Christy.

"No, I'm not going to pretend to be your fiancée again," Christy says, rifling through a pile of new neckties and frowning.

Eduardo winces, and very carefully doesn't look at Dustin sniggering. "It's a little different this time."

She glances up and blinks at seeing Dustin and Mark. "You look like--"

"I know," Mark says.

"Christy," Eduardo says. "You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

"Alright, what?" she asks, looking at him finally.

"We're going to break into the palace," he says. "And we need you to act as bait."

"Yes!" she says, practically shrieking, and throws herself into his arms.

"I don't understand," Eduardo says, and tries not to fall over.

She makes a disgusted sound, still hugging him. "I've been waiting for you to let me help with something exciting for _years_."

"My job is not _exciting_ ," Eduardo says. It's not the word he'd use.

"Why did you think I've let you hang around all this time?" she asks, pulling back and grinning at him.

Eduardo can't help but smile back. "I thought it was because you liked me."

"And saw the redeemable in you, like a beacon of light over the dark ocean," she says, straight-faced.

Snorting, Eduardo steps away to allow her to come around from the back of the counter.

"But really," she says, smiling again, "I've just been hanging around hoping you'll teach me how to torture people someday." Eduardo winces and she pats his arm. "What do you need?"

"Your breasts," Chris says, straightforward. "And your ability to scream."

"Sounds like fun," Christy says, and herds them toward the door of the shop. Eduardo flails and grabs Mark to hide him just before the door opens. Mark tries to shrug him off. Eduardo digs his fingers in, hoping for bruises. "I'll be by for dinner as soon as the shop closes!"

Eduardo may be paranoid but he doesn't want Christy walking around by herself right now, so he waits with her. He hands Mark off to Dustin, who takes the hint with a minimum amount of fuss.

She's happy for the help, as always, making him deal with the teenagers and the mothers with children - all the difficult customers. She locks up a little early, still obviously excited. Eduardo ducks behind the counter to set a few things up while she stuffs some clothes in a bag, and then he brings her along back home. He has to relinquish his room to her and get ready in Chris' room with Mark, but he considers his afternoon a fair exchange for the guarantee of her safety, though she rolls her eyes at him.

They get dressed in silence. Mark puts on the clothes with a weary air, and when he needs help lacing everything up, Dustin takes over wordlessly. It's disturbing to watch, their silence and Mark's familiarity with the routine remind Eduardo too sharply of the preparations when his father was first teaching him how to work. Eduardo is done long before Mark, and he sits on the edge of Chris' bed.

Mark finally shakes his head and steps away from Dustin, tugging his cuffs to straighten them. "Alright," he says, facing himself in the mirror.

Eduardo stands, taking everything in. Christy did an amazing job on the clothes - the outfit is probably better than anything Eduardo has seen the false king wear. Mark's reaction on seeing himself completes the outfit; his bored, dismissive expression wouldn't be out of place on any noble Eduardo has ever met.

He turns around, and blinks upon seeing Eduardo. "You wear that when you work?" Mark says severely. "That."

"Yes?" Eduardo says, unnerved by his tone.

"You look ridiculous," Mark says. "Do you need to wear that much leather?"

Eduardo frowns. "It's thick. It lessens the chances of getting hurt."

"Knee-high boots?" Mark asks skeptically. "Don't you squeak when you walk?"

"No," Eduardo says flatly, and glares at him. Dustin starts snickering behind his hand.

\---

"Do you think I'm showing enough cleavage?" Christy asks. She was the last one ready, which isn't surprising considering her outfit. That many straps was bound to take a while, and she kept refusing Eduardo's offers for help.

"I never thought I'd hear a question like that," Dustin says.

"I never thought I'd have to say yes," Eduardo says. "If you show much more you'll be arrested for indecency before the guards even realize you're trying to break in."

"Please," Christy says. "I've worn worse." She has. There was the time where the whole dress was sheer in sunlight, and then her shirt with the buttons right over her bust that came undone every time she bent over.

"But this is the most I've seen you show deliberately," Eduardo insists. The black neckline is so low-cut that there was a tan line above the curve of each breast, which had made Christy click her tongue and start discussing the merits of nude sunbathing with Chris. Points for: no tan lines, and therefore being able to wear any clothing. Point against: potentially getting arrested. It had been a tie.

"So I just get through the first doors and then get caught, right?" she says. "And get as many guards to come as I can."

"And we'll use the distraction to get in for real," Eduardo says, nodding, and then kisses her cheek in thanks. She makes a smooching sound back.

"Yuck," Mark says, openly staring at them.

"You know," Christy says, staring back, "you really look like--"

"I know," Mark says.

"Okay, time to go!" Chris says loudly, and waves his hand for Christy to exit the bar first.

On the way to the palace, though, Christy starts looking nervous. "You'll get me out of this, right?" she asked Eduardo, twisting her fingers into his shirt. "I won't actually go to prison for trying to steal from the palace."

"It'll be okay," Eduardo soothes, petting her back. "I left quite a bit of money in your shop, so if we're caught you admit to being bribed for this and you should be fine. If we're not caught you'll be released almost immediately."

"Please don't get caught," she says, anxious.

Eduardo takes a slow, deep breath, but he has to say it. "You don't have to do this. I know it's asking a lot."

"Now would be a terrible time to back out, though," Mark says evenly, from several feet in front where he's walking by himself.

"Taken up eavesdropping?" Christy asks snottily. "Maybe you should get caught."

Mark makes an unamused sound. Eduardo shushes both of them.

Christy gets through the front gates with Dustin hiding her, and Eduardo keeps Mark and Chris back with him in case Dustin has bad luck and the guards catch him as well as Christy. Eduardo puts Chris and Mark against a wall to the right from the guards at the main entrances. There aren't any guards coming around the corner, so he lets his knife come unhidden. He can't tell if Christy or Dustin see until Christy abruptly becomes visible and throws herself at the doors.

Startled, the guards jerk awake from a half-slumber and yelp, "Hey! Girl!"

She yelps back and turns on her heel, taking off towards the east gate. She stays out in the open, and Eduardo can hear multiple guards yelling as they see her from off in the distance. Good girl.

"Hey!" Dustin hisses, and Eduardo taps his code into the symbols on the lock, lighting them up one by one. The doors open soundlessly when the lock gives, and he gives a silent sigh of relief, careful to keep a tight grip on Chris just in case Dustin doesn't remember to keep both of them hidden.

Once they're inside Eduardo has to hush Mark's impatience while he relocks the door. The guards haven't noticed them at all yet, and he's tired of making mistakes. Then he lets Mark drag them off towards the bedroom, where the king should be. Dustin makes a quietly outraged sound when Mark's sleeve slips from his fingers, but he lunges forward to clutch Mark's hand and has him hidden again in a moment. Eduardo holds more tightly to Chris.

The bedroom door opens to reveal an empty room, uninhabited and unfurnished.

Mark swears, venomously.

"Your mother's room," Eduardo whispers as quietly as possible, and then he and Chris get bumped aside as Mark storms down the hall, Dustin tripping too loudly behind him.

As Mark goes, making too much noise and acting impulsive, Eduardo makes himself just stop. Chris makes a confused noise but remembers his promise not to talk, and Eduardo puts his mouth against Chris' ear and says, "This is dangerous. There is supposed to be a guard everywhere. Mark is making noise, and sound echoes. "Where is everyone?"

Turning his head, too, Chris breathes, "What do we do?"

"Be careful," Eduardo says, and trails after Mark and Dustin slowly.

It wouldn't have mattered, it turns out. Mark slams open the doors, slipping Dustin's grasp, and before Dustin can grab him again there's a knife across Mark's throat. Eduardo takes in a sharp breath, reconsidering every good thing he's ever thought about Dustin.

"We've been waiting for you," a guard says. It's not someone Eduardo recognizes, which is really bad. Untrained, probably, or at least not well-trained, and poorly trained security is more prone to accidents when they get excited.

"Stay here," Eduardo tells Chris, and pushes him into a shadowy corner. Chris comes visible as soon as Eduardo lets go, but from the Queen's bedroom he'll still be out of sight.

Eduardo can't tell where Dustin is, but he feels his way forward to avoid running into him and slips through the door. There's a second guard, watching Mark and his captor.

The bedroom, however, is empty.

"The king's clever," the second guard says. "He said you were coming."

Which meant--

Eduardo stumbled back to the wall in self-defense. He runs into Dustin, who cowers further until Eduardo snags his wrist and holds him carefully still. The other pair of guards comes into sight, Chris dangling between them.

"Looks like we caught his help, too," one of them says, and then Mark and Chris are getting dragged back down the hall. Chris struggles until they hold a knife against his back, and even then he drags his heels. Mark is going cooperatively. Eduardo is just thankful neither of them is trying to say anything.

"Can't you--" Dustin starts, barely audible, but Eduardo grabs his throat anyway until the guards have taken Mark and Chris around the corner.

"Shut up," he says fiercely. "They have knives and two captives and no reason not to bring a dying shifter to the king instead of a healthy one. Which one do you want to risk getting stabbed?"

He feels Dustin's throat work as he swallows.

"Stay silent," Eduardo repeats, and then trusts Dustin to follow as he tries to make up the distance they've gotten ahead.

It turns out he needn't have hurried. The guards force them into the first audience chamber, where the king is sitting in his usual chair on the dais in front of the windows.

"We've caught them," the first guard proclaims loudly.

"Thank you," the king says, and stands up, walking to the edge of the dais steps and staring down at Mark with a fascinated expression. "Would you leave us?"

The guards look shocked.

"Don't worry," the king says, smiling that disturbingly uncharacteristic smile. "If you tie their hands I'm sure I'll be perfectly safe. You can wait right outside the doors. I just want a chance to talk to them before we have to go through the whole trouble of officially arresting them."

The guards still look dubious, but their only option is to put their king at risk or disobey him - and thankfully the king isn't well-loved. They don't even tie their wrists well, and Eduardo has to fight an entirely inappropriate grin as Mark immediately starts twisting his wrists to get loose.

"Hello," the king says, as soon as the door's shut. "I'm sorry about this trap business."

And as he steps off the dais to face Mark, he drops his front.

"Sean," Mark says blankly.

"Mark," the impostor answers, sounding oddly warm. "I'm so glad to see you again."

"I bet," Dustin hisses darkly, and Eduardo pinches his arm.

Thankfully, Sean doesn't seem to have heard him. "I mean, I'm surprised at the circumstances, but I've missed you."

"You _know_ him?" Chris interrupts, looking at Mark in disbelief.

"He was one of my guards. The son of one of my mother's friends. He was given the job when his father died." Mark doesn't look away from Sean. "Why?"

Sean shrugs, elaborately casual. "You were always complaining about how you didn't want to inherit the throne. I thought you would appreciate the escape."

"The escape?" Chris says loudly. Eduardo uses the sound the hide the noise as he pats Dustin's shoulder hard, hoping Dustin knows to stay put from here. Then he circles around the edge of the room, edging closer to Sean.

"Be quiet, Chris," Mark says. He doesn't look away from Sean.

"It was so easy to impersonate you, too," Sean says. "After all, you lose your mother and assume responsibilities like these, people expect your behavior to change at least a little."

Mark nods. "You tried to have me killed."

Sean looks honestly confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I woke up in the sewers," Mark says. "You had somebody kill me, but I heal. I survived."

"You heal?" Sean says. "Well, talents obviously do run in the family." Looking unsurprised, he continues, "I never had anyone hurt you. I drugged you and, yes, I had to dump you in the sewers, which I apologize for, but I promise I did you no harm. Of course, the other two guards had to be disposed of, but I thought their lives for ours was a fair trade." Eduardo holds his breath as he pads up the steps to the dais. 

"You shifted to be me and then yelled for help," Mark says. "And all three guards were dead, miraculously saving you in the process."

"And the murderous intruder had escaped back out the window right before the reinforcements appeared," Sean says, looking terribly sympathetic. "But there were bigger problems to deal with, since the coronation was so near."

"It was a good plan," Mark says. Chris looks at him, outraged. Eduardo steps up behind him, but has to hold his breath when Sean suddenly sways back, laughing. They don't quite touch.

"Obviously," Sean says. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes," Mark says.

They look at each other, and Eduardo flips the knife in his hand, showing it and letting it catch the light in the hope Mark notices; Mark isn't reacting the way Eduardo had thought he would. Eduardo needs Mark to tell him what to do.

Sean cocks his head and steps down the stairs closer to Mark. Eduardo swears to himself but he doesn't dare get that close again. "Why did you come back?" he asks. "You had what you wanted. Why not take off?"

"I was going to," Mark says, brutally honest. Eduardo winces, drops the knife back to his side. Chris sucks in a breath and looks betrayed. "But you screwed up."

Sean choreographs surprise and leans forward attentively. "Do tell, prince?"

"You suck at ruling a kingdom," Mark says flatly. "So I'm relieving you of the responsibility."

"No, you aren't," Sean says, low and dangerous. "I deserve it, not you."

"You deserve it?" Mark says. "You're the son of the staff."

Even Chris winces at that one, and Eduardo has to stop himself from grabbing Sean when he takes another step towards Mark.

Still, he laughs, sounding strained. "You're doing so well at making me angry with you. But really, Mark. Think. You're better than this. How did I pass the coronation ceremonies?"

"We are not related," Mark says, quietly furious.

Sean spreads his hands wide, shrugging. "Half-brothers," he says. "Mother got around."

Mark's face hardens. "Don't talk about her that way."

Sean snorts derisively, and Mark nods, relaxing as he makes up his mind. "Now, Eduardo."

Sean dies as easily as anyone when Eduardo slits his throat.

\---

It is, as Dustin will point out later, rather anticlimactic from there.

Mark calls the guards in after Eduardo makes sure Dustin knows to stay hidden. They open the doors and rush in, but stall as they take in the body.

"Your majesty?" the first one asks, hesitantly.

"I'm fine," Mark says. "Eduardo took care of the impostor."

"But," the guard says, "what about him?"

"This is Chris. He is Eduardo's roommate," Mark says. It's not much as far as explanations go - Eduardo would ask why Chris is here, then, or why he was caught with the shifter.

It seems to be enough for the guard, though, because he nods. "Shall we have someone take care of the body?"

"Yes," Mark says shortly. "His name was Sean Parker. He used to be on the palace guard. He has no family."

The guard nods and leaves with his partner, looking relieved to get away.

"You two, wait," Mark says to the remaining pair. "There was a girl caught by the guards less than an hour ago. Have her released - she was just paid by the shifter to be a distraction. She's harmless."

"But your majesty," the braver of the two protests, "doesn't that still make her a traitor?"

"She's the one who informed us he was going to come after his majesty tonight," Eduardo steps in quietly.

Mark stares at the two guards. "So go release her."

They bob their heads and hurry off. Eduardo is beginning to suspect he may miss the impostor's diplomacy skills.

Dustin shows up next to Chris, making him jump. "They're rather oblivious," he says. "They didn't even wonder why you were wearing the shifter's clothes."

"One royal outfit is going to look like another," Eduardo says. "And the fact that Mark is obviously the only one who looks like the king now is more important. But I do agree - they're not well-trained. The king dismissed a lot of the good guards once he was crowned, probably because they're the ones most likely to notice something odd."

"This is going much better than expected," Chris says tensely, "and I'm glad, but could we move away from the dead person?"

"Sorry." Eduardo grimaces. "Mark, why don't you take Chris and Dustin to your rooms? I have to finish dealing with the palace security."

Mark shrugs. "Dustin and Chris could go home."

"I'm not leaving," Dustin says. Chris just raises his eyebrows.

Eduardo shakes his head. "I want to make sure there isn't anyone else to worry about. Until I'm sure he was the only dangerous person, I want to keep track of all three of you."

Mark lets Dustin haul him off, going on about shiny things and if it counts as stealing if he convinces Mark to give it to him, and Eduardo sighs and shakes himself and goes to gather the guards.

They've gathered together in the guard house, clustered and whispering. Several of them jump when Eduardo comes in. Someone's already gotten Eric, and he looks overwhelmed.

"I've sent four guards to handle the mess in the audience chamber. What else should we do?"

"For the rest of the night, leave the extra guards. They've already been paid for it and it can't hurt. Tomorrow I'll start going over the security with you. I think you'll find the king wants to make some changes."

"I understand," Eric says. "I appreciate any help you decide to offer, of course."

"For now," Eduardo says, turning to address all of the guards, "you all have posts to return to. I'll be guarding the king personally for the next couple of days, in case of anything unexpected, so any of you who would be inside the palace can join other posts for the rest of today."

There's muttering, but nobody argues, and when Eduardo stares at them longer they start to disperse.

Eric asks, "What really happened in there?"

"Nothing that exciting," Eduardo says. "The king's trap worked and we caught the shifter."

"You look tired," Eric says sympathetically.

"Not really," Eduardo says, smiling politely. "Now I should get back to the king."

\---

Chris wakes early from habit. Eduardo watches him stir where he's laid out on a couch in front of the fireplace. Dustin had told Mark that, monarch or not, he could share his damn bed, and they are a mess of covers and curls on the opposite side of the room.

"It's dawn," Chris says quietly, sitting down next to Eduardo by the door. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens. You'll be useless the rest of the day if you don't sleep at least a little."

"I'll be fine," Eduardo says. He doesn't say he's done worse - Chris knows.

"Go to sleep," Chris says, exasperated and fond, so Eduardo does.

He wakes several hours later, to a loud clatter right in front of him. It's Mark, setting down a plate, and Eduardo takes a deep breath and relaxes again. Mark sits down cross-legged in front of the plate and says, "Chris has strict orders for you to eat."

"He cooked?" Eduardo asks, surprised, but he recognizes Chris' food.

"He overtook the kitchens," Mark says dryly. "The entire staff included. The cook is half terrified and half in awe."

Eduardo sighs. "It's how he handles stress."

"Sean's ready to be buried," Mark says abruptly. "I'm going to have it finished this afternoon."

"There's a lot you have to do," Eduardo says. "If there's anything I can do to help just let me know."

"What are you going to do?" Mark asks.

"I have to go over palace security," Eduardo says, as if Mark were asking about his plans for the day. "It's not my job, I'm only tangentially involved with them, but the head of security has no real experience. He's nervous."

Mark nods and watches Eduardo pick over the food. Eduardo watches him back, and feels warm when Mark smiles at him. "Thank you," Mark says. "For this."

Eduardo shakes his head, wordless, and Mark watches him for a few more seconds before he stumbles to his feet and goes about his business.

\---

Eduardo doesn't run into any of them for the rest of the day. He's busy, working with Eric to decide which guards to keep and how to change the procedures. They've gotten lax since the Queen's head of security retired, and Eduardo tries to remember what he could and restore the guard to somewhat of its former proficiency. Eric nods along with everything he says and is cooperative, if terribly clueless.

"We need to go through the guards themselves at some point," Eduardo says at the end of the day, sitting back over the schedules and new codes and dragging his hands down his face. "Decide who the most reliable ones are and which ones are well-trained. I'm also going to go through old records and see if I can find the good men that have been lost from the guard over the years; see if any of them will come back."

"If that's all for tonight," Eric starts, hesitantly, and Eduardo smiles and thanks him and lets him go home to his family. Then he goes to hunt down Mark and Dustin.

He finds them, as well as Chris, in the library. He's surprised to see them, actually; he'd assumed Chris would want to get back to the restaurant. Instead they're digging through books and bickering with each other, though that stops when Eduardo comes in. Chris and Dustin smile at him, and then Dustin kicks Mark and tells him to say hello. Mark waves without looking up from an old book that looks like it has family trees in it.

"Is everything alright?" Eduardo asks politely.

"Everything is amazing," Dustin tells him fervently. "Have you looked around? We're in the palace!"

"Speaking of," Eduardo says, giving Dustin a look. Dustin quails. "You promised to return a few things, I think."

"I did," Dustin admits reluctantly. "Can I go get them tomorrow?"

Eduardo nods and Dustin grins at him one more time before looking back down. They're engrossed again, ignoring him, and Eduardo holds in a frown. He hides himself and goes to observe the guards as they begin the rounds.

He gives it up after a couple of hours - they're almost all terrible. Most of them fall asleep at least once, and several of them don't even bother to go on their passes at all. Eduardo will be damned if he's going to leave Mark alone with security still like this.

Dustin and Chris, one of the servants tells him when he catches her on her way to bed, had a guest room made up for them. Mark had insisted they have it on the same hall as him, which Eduardo sincerely appreciates. He opens the door only enough to make sure they're both present and unharmed, and then he sneaks his way into Mark's bedroom.

Mark is in bed, face toward the window, but Eduardo can see him breathing evenly. Sighing quietly, Eduardo sits in the chair by the door and tips his head back, preparing to keep himself awake.

"You can't stay there all night again," Mark says quietly.

Eduardo startles, hard enough to bump the chair into the wall, and he hisses in irritation at Mark. "You couldn't have let me know you were awake?"

"You'll be completely useless tomorrow," Mark continues. "You need to sleep."

"The palace guard is worthless right now," Eduardo says bluntly. "I need to protect you."

"I appreciate your concern," Mark says.

Eduardo stands up, annoyed. "I am concerned," he says. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Come here."

Stepping closer, Eduardo says, "I'm serious. Until I get the guard working the way they're supposed to, I'm staying with you."

"So stay with me," Mark says, but it's so quiet that Eduardo has to step closer still to understand him. "We've shared your bed for days. Sleep here."

"It's not appropriate," Eduardo says, throat dry.

Mark snorts. "Just go to sleep."

Eduardo knows how bad an idea it is, but he's exhausted and worried and Mark has become a bad habit. He gets in bed and is asleep before Mark has stopped staring at him.

\---

The next day Eduardo starts the long and exhaustive process of overhauling the staff. He ends up in the library with Mark and Chris all morning while Dustin is off retrieving his stolen goods. Mark keeps asking Eduardo's opinions on matters of state, like whether he thinks it's worth reviewing every appointment from ambassador down to housekeeper's assistant, or only the upper level ones, or whether it's best to leave everything alone until a problem comes up, to avoid arousing suspicion about why the king's behavior has changed.

Eduardo, each time, tries to protest that matters of state aren't his job, but Mark correctly points out that he has no advisors right now and that, besides, it has to do with the security of the kingdom and is, therefore, tangentially related to Eduardo's job. Eduardo ends up gritting his teeth and giving a noncommittal answer to every question Mark poses to him.

Chris has no such compunction and happily gives advice, but he's always been suited to that.

Dustin returns before lunch, hauling in everything he'd taken, which he lines up for Eduardo's inspection and approval before dumping in the hall - even Mark looks a little dismayed at his carelessness - and hollering for the maids to let them know they can be put back wherever.

The maids look horrified, and Dustin has probably made his first enemies.

Dustin joins Mark and Chris, and Mark orders food for the four of them absently. He's had no problem adjusting back to palace living, and Eduardo wonders again how he survived with Dustin for almost two years.

Late afternoon Chris makes Dustin show him the gallery, because he's never been. They tried to bring Mark and Eduardo, but Eduardo is almost finished compiling his list of guard replacements and wants to finish today. Mark ignores their departure entirely.

Once they've been gone awhile, though, Mark comes and sits at the table across from Eduardo. Eduardo looks up warily, expecting another grilling about the history of Antignia, as if Eduardo is aware of the political workings of a nation three over from them, but Mark is watching him make the list instead.

Finally, Eduardo has to ask, "Can I help you?" He thinks he can be forgiven for sounding testy; Mark's full focus can be disconcerting.

"Where is the actual head of security?" Mark asks.

Eduardo says, "I don't know. Keeping up with his day to day tasks, I imagine."

"You're better at it than he is," Mark says.

"I've had more experience." Mark tilts his head and Eduardo waves his hand. "Not running the security, no, but I was raised to know how it should work. I know what qualities make a trustworthy guard and what the weak points in the defenses are."

"You don't have to do this," Mark tells him. "I know you feel like you're repaying some debt, but it's done. You're relieved of it, or whatever you need to hear. I'm back on the throne, things are going well - at least until we end up in a war because I can't fix Sean's mistakes. You can go back to your life."

Eduardo doesn't say that most of his life has moved into Mark's palace. "I want to finish this," he says simply instead. He ignores the way Mark's speech feels like a dismissal. "Until you have something else for me to do, of course."

"No." Mark rolls his eyes. "That is what I mean. You can do whatever you want. I don't need an assassin."

Eduardo freezes and sets down his pen, very carefully. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says formally. "I still request permission to finish the security detailing."

Mark makes a frustrated sound. "Stop it. I'm not taking away your job or ruining your life. I don't need an assassin. You said my mother barely had anything for you to do, and I don't need you at all. There are other spies. You can do whatever you want."

Eduardo stays silent. He clasps his hands on the table in front of him and stares at his fingernails. When he glances up, just quickly, Mark is frowning at him in confusion and waiting. He says, reluctantly, "There isn't anything else for me to do." He was raised to this. He has no other options. His occupation is well-known enough to the city that he would have to leave to find normal work, and even then he'd have to be trained, and who would take on a full-grown man who has no usable skills?

Mark quite clearly doesn't get it. He's still blinking at Eduardo. Eduardo keeps his mouth straight and says, "I'm going to finish this."

"Then do that," Mark says, frustrated. "Take over security. You wanted to protect me, keep doing it."

Eduardo opens his mouth and shuts it again. "There already is a head of security."

"No, there isn't," Mark says, and looks pleased at Eduardo's surprise. "I relieved him of his position this morning."

"Mark!" Eduardo says. "You can't just do things that suddenly! It hurt's people."

"I doubt it," Mark says dryly. "Since he thanked me."

Eduardo shuts his mouth again.

"You're going to accept eventually," Mark says, impatient. "So just say yes and get it done with."

"Yes," Eduardo says, then catches himself. "No!"

Too late. Mark already looks triumphant.

"You're a pain in the ass," Eduardo says, forgetting that this is now officially the king, who could have him killed for that.

Mark doesn't look any less pleased. "You're staying."

Eduardo doesn't know what to say.

Mark continues, "Are you going to continue sleeping with me? To ensure my protection at all hours?"

"I'm being cautious until the guard has been improved," Eduardo says, brittle.

Mark smiles. "I approve. After all, the last attack was during my sleep. You would be able to prevent it from ever happening again." He pauses and stares at Eduardo, before making an irritated expression and standing, crossing around the table to glare down at Eduardo.

He says, "I'm propositioning you, in case that isn't clear."

Eduardo stares up at him and says mindlessly, "Aren't you worried you may be using your royal authority to keep me from saying no?"

"No," Mark says. "I think my authority is balanced well enough by your ability to kill me at any moment. Do you want to say no?" He isn't really worried, though, instead looking down at Eduardo with a hint of amusement and dwindling patience.

Wordlessly, Eduardo shakes his head.

Mark breathes out and leans forward to brace himself Eduardo's shoulder.

Eduardo touches his wrist and says, "This is a bad idea. You know that?"

"I've got a kingdom on the brink of war because a guy who claimed to be my illegitimate half-brother took my throne for two years and made a terrible ruler. I have no advisors, no staff I can trust, and that same kingdom that, if it isn't invaded, might turn on me at any moment because of terrible governing practices, and I can't disclaim responsibility for any of it because doing so would alert them that the throne was compromised, which might start widespread panic. People are idiots and I've voluntarily taken on the job of keeping several million of them happy. There are worse things I could do right now than sleep with one of the people I absolutely know doesn't want anything bad to happen to me."

Eduardo blinks all through Mark's rant, during which he waves his hands around and nearly hits Eduardo once or twice. When finished, he puts a knee on Eduardo's chair and leans over him, as if for emphasis.

"Point taken," Eduardo says, and kisses him. One day, he knows, he'll have to learn how to say no to Mark. Not now.

"Aren't you going to ask about Sean?" Mark says quietly, lips brushing Eduardo's as he pulls out of the kiss.

Eduardo breathes a laugh. "Ask about who he was, or ask how you knew?"

Mark doesn't move away. Eduardo can feel him tense.

"Neither," Eduardo continues, more gently. "You're the true king. He wasn't. That was all that mattered then, and it's all that matters now. You can tell me, if you want, and I'll listen, but it doesn't matter."

Mark doesn't respond, just leans further into Eduardo, and Eduardo spreads his hands across Mark's ribs and feels him breathe.

End.


End file.
